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Apparently,  she  had  made  little  or  no  progress  in 
unpacking  her  suitcase,  for  nothing  was  put  away. 

(Page  14)  Frontispiece 


BY 

DOROTHY  WHITEHILL 

Author  of  "Polly's  First  Year  at  Boarding  School,' 
"Polly's  Summer  Vacation,"  etc. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 
CHARLES  L.   WRENN 


NEW  YORK 
BARSE  &  HOPKINS 

PUBLISHERS 


BOOHS  FOR  YOUNG  GIRLS 


THE  FOLLY  PENDLETON  SERIES 

By  Dorothy  Whitehall 

Illustrated. 

1  POLLY'S  FIRST  YEAR  AT  BOARDING  SCHOOL 

2  POLLY'S  SUMMER  VACATION 

3  POLLY'S      SENIOR     YEAR      AT      BOARDING 

SCHOOL 

(Other  volumes  in  preparation) 

BARSE  &  HOPKINS 

PUBLISHERS  NEW  YORK 


Copyright,  1917,  by 
Baree  &  Hopkins 

Polly's  Summer  Vacation 


VAIU.MU.eU     C9MF.NY 
•IMMANTCN  AN*  Mt«  YO«K 


.tack 
\nr.ex 


5125810 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PACK 

I  SENIORS! .  9 

II  A  CLASS  MEETING 21 

III  FANNY 32 

IV  BASKET-BALL  ELECTION 44 

V  THANKSGIVING 58 

VI  MAUD 72 

VII  A  SENIOR  DISPUTE .80 

VIII  AN  EVENTFUL  STRAW-RIDE 93 

IX  A  STARTLING  DISCOVERY 108 

X  A  SURPRISE  TO  MANY 121 

XI  THE  CONCERT 130 

XII  CHRISTMAS 144 

XIII  POLLY'S  LETTER 156 

XIV  MAUD'S  DISAPPEARANCE 166 

XV  THE  JUNIOR  PROM 179 

XVI  MUMPS 193 

XVII  SPRING .     ,     .     .  205 

XVIII  FIELD  DAY 219 

XIX  THE  SENIOR  DANCE 232 

XX  COMMENCEMENT                        ....  244 


STACK 


ILLUSTKATIONS 

MM 

Apparently,  she  had  made  little  or  no  progress  in 
unpacking  her  suitcase,  for  nothing  was  put 
away Frontispiece 

Polly  was  standing  on  a  chair  which  threatened 
every  minute  to  topple  from  its  precarious  posi- 
tion on  her  bed 21 

They  cut  it  down,  dragged  it  to  the  sleigh  and  bore 
it  home  in  triumph 147 

Polly  felt  that  she  had  not  really  earned  the  cup 
when  it  was  presented  to  her  at  the  close  of  the 
game 198 


POLLY'S  SENIOR  YEAR  AT 
BOARDING  SCHOOL 

CHAPTER  I 

SENIORS  I 

POLLY  PENDLETON  and  Lois  Farwell  returned  to 
Seddon  Hall  as  seniors. 

Up  the  long  hill  that  led  from  the  station  their 
carriage  crawled  as  it  had  done  on  every  other 
opening  day. 

From  the  summit  of  the  hill  the  low,  red-roofed 
buildings  of  the  school  smiled  a  welcome  from  their 
setting  of  blazing  Autumn  leaves,  and  all  around 
them  girls  were  calling  out  greetings. 

There  was  a  marked  change  in  the  two  girls'  out- 
ward appearances — their  hair  was  up  and  their 
skirts  were  longer,  their  whole  bearing  was  older. 
They  were  different  from  the  two  youngsters 
whose  Freshman  year  has  already  been  recorded. 
That  is,  they  looked  different,  and  if  you  had 
asked  them  about  it  they  would  have  assured  you 
that  they  were  indeed  different. 

But,  the  old-time  twinkle  in  Polly's  eyes  and 

9 


10    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

Lois'  sudden  merry  laugh  gave  you  a  comforting 
feeling  that,  after  all,  in  spite  of  assurances  and 
looks,  they  were  still  the  same  Polly  and  Lois. 

Nothing  very  eventful  had  happened  in  either 
one  of  their  lives,  during  the  past  years.  They 
had  spent  their  Winters  at  Seddon  Hall  and  their 
vacations  at  Polly's  old  home  in  New  England 
with  Mrs.  Farwell.  Polly's  uncle,  Mr.  Pendleton, 
and  Dr.  Farwell,  had  come  up  on  visits  when  they 
could.  Bob,  Lois '  big  brother,  had  come,  too,  but 
less  frequently  of  late.  He  was  at  college  now 
and  working  very  hard. 

They  had  made  new  friends,  but,  what  is  more 
important,  they  had  kept  their  old  ones. 

This  well  ordered  way  of  living,  however,  had 
to  change.  Time  had  gone  on  slowly,  but  stead- 
ily and  now,  suddenly,  they  were  Seniors.  It  was 
an  exhilarating  thought  and  Polly  and  Lois  hugged 
each  other  whenever  it  struck  them  afresh. 

Their  carriage  finally  reached  the  door.  In  a 
second  they  were  in  the  reception  room,  and,  after 
they  had  greeted  Mrs.  Baird  and  the  faculty,  they 
dashed  up  the  front  stairs — a  privilege  only  ac- 
corded the  Seniors — and  found  their  room,  a  big 
corner  one,  which  they  were  to  share  in  Senior 
Alley.  Booming  together  was  another  Senior 
privilege. 


Seniors !  11 

"Poll,  we're  back."  Lois  threw  her  suitcase 
without  regard  to  contents  on  one  of  the  beds  and 
looked  around  her. 

"Yes,  we're  back,  and  we're  Seniors  and,  what's 
more,  we've  the  best  room  on  the  Alley,"  Polly 
answered,  enthusiastically.  "We'll  put  your 
window  box  there."  She  indicated  a  broad  bow 
window,  overlooking  the  campus  and  gym.  "And 
we'll— 

"Oh!  don't  let's  fuss  about  the  decorations 
now,"  Lois  interrupted.  "Let's  find  Betty  and 
the  other  girls.  I'm  dying  to  know  who's  back." 

"I  am  too,  sort  of,"  Polly  agreed  reluctantly,  as 
they  left  the  room  and  started  for  the  Assembly 
Hall.  "Do  you  know,  Lo,  I  always  feel  funny 
about  the  new  girls." 

"Why?" 

"Oh,  I  can't  exactly  explain,  but  I  don't  like 
them;  I  wish  they  hadn't  come.  We  were  so  all 
right  last  year.  Why  couldn't  just  the  old  girls 
come  back  and  go  on  where  we  left  off?" 

"Why,  you  silly,"  Lois  laughed.  "Some  of 
last  year's  girls  were  new  and  you  liked  them. 
Anyway,  cheer  up,  and  don't  worry  about  it  now. 
Listen  to  the  racket  they're  making  in  the  hall." 

Polly  gave  herself  a  little  shake,  a  trick  she  had 
when  she  wanted  to  dismiss  a  thought  from  her 


12    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

mind,  but  her  face  failed  to  reflect  Lois'  smile  of 
anticipation.  She  was  a  queer  puzzle,  was  Polly. 
Uncle  Eoddy  once  described  her  as  a  tangle  of  deep 
thoughts,  completely  surrounded  by  a  sense  of 
humor.  And  Mrs.  Farwell  always  insisted  that 
she  discussed  the  weightiest  problems  of  life  when 
she  was  running  for  a  trolley.  Lois  was  the  exact 
opposite,  an  artist,  a  dreamer  of  dreams,  who, 
when  her  mind  was  off  on  some  airy  flight,  was 
maddeningly  indifferent  to  everything  else.  They 
were  ideal  friends,  for  they  acted  as  a  balance, 
the  one  for  the  other.  They  were  so  much  to- 
gether that  no  one  ever  thought  of  them  singly. 

A  shout  of  welcome  from  the  old  girls,  and  eager 
silence  from  the  new  ones,  greeted  their  entrance 
into  the  Assembly  Hall.  There  was  a  hubbub  of 
hellos  for  a  minute,  and  then  Betty  descended 
upon  them. 

Betty,  the  freckled  face — she  wasn't  a  bit 
changed.  She  still  wore  a  ribbon  on  her  hair,  and 
her  nose  was  as  snubbed  and  impudent  as  ever. 
Of  course,  she  was  taller  and  her  skirts  were  long- 
er, but  no  one  realized  it.  That  was  the  differ- 
ence. With  Polly  and  Lois  the  years  had  really 
added  themselves  and  marked  a  change,  but  Betty 
was  still  Betty  and  years  mattered  not  at  all. 

"Jemima!"  she  exclaimed,  joyfully,  "but  I'm 


Seniors !  13 

glad  you've  come.  What  under  the  sun  did  you 
wait  until  the  late  train  for.  I've  been  here  all 
day  and  I  've  felt  like  a  fish  out  of  water.  There 's 
a  raft  of  new  girls,  but  no  Senior  specials,  thank 
goodness.  The  two  Dorothys  are  here," — she 
paused  and  wrinkled  her  nose  just  the  least  little 
bit  in  disapproval,  and  then  rushed  on.  "I'm 
rooming  with  Angela,  you  know.  Isn't  it  mean 
Connie  isn't  back?  Ange  misses  her  already." 

Constance  Wentworth,  of  whom  she  spoke,  was 
one  of  the  old  girls  and  Angela  Hollywood's  chosen 
companion.  She  had  not  returned  this  year  be- 
cause her  music  professor  had  insisted  upon  her 
starting  in  at  the  Conservatory  of  Music,  for  she 
was  a  remarkable  pianist.  The  girls  realized  that 
no  one  would  ever  quite  fill  her  place. 

"Where  is  Ange!"  Lois  inquired,  when  Betty 
paused  for  breath. 

"In  her  room,  I  mean  our  room;  she's  moping," 
Betty  answered.  "She  said  three  distinct  times 
that  she  wished  Connie  were  back,  and  so  I  left. 
I'm  not  sensitive,  but — "  Betty  left  the  rest  un- 
said, but  her  look  expressed  volumes. 

"Poor  Ange!"  Polly  said  with  exaggerated 
feeling.  "I  don't  blame  her;  let's  go  find  her; 
she  must  need  cheering  up;  besides,  I'm  tired  of 
meeting  new  girls." 


14    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

Angela  answered  their  knock  a  few  minutes  later 
with  a  "Come  in,"  uttered  in  her  own  particular 
drawl.  She  was  sitting  on  her  bed  in  the  midst  of 
clothes.  Apparently,  she  had  made  little  or  no 
progress  in  unpacking  her  suitcase,  for  nothing 
was  put  away. 

Angela  had  always  been,  and  was  still,  the  un- 
rivaled beauty  of  Seddon  Hall.  Her  complexion 
was  as  soft  and  pink  as  a  rose  petal,  and  her 
shimmering  golden  hair  and  big  blue  eyes  made 
you  think  of  gardens  and  Dresden  china.  She 
was  never  known  to  hurry,  and  she  spoke  with  a 
soft  lazy  drawl,  which,  curiously  enough,  never 
irritated  any  one.  She  had  won  quite  a  renown  as 
a  poet,  but  was  too  quiet  to  be  generally  popular. 

"Hello,  you  three!"  she  greeted,  as  the  girls  en- 
tered. ' '  I  'm  awfully  glad  you  're  back.  Isn  't  this 
a  mess?"  She  included  the  room  with  a  wave  of 
her  arm.  ' '  I  don 't  know  where  to  begin. ' ' 

"It's  exactly  the  way  it  was  when  I  left  you," 
Betty  exclaimed  with  pretended  wrath. 

"I  know  it;  but  you've  been  so  piggy  with  the 
dresser  drawers  and  the  wardrobe  that  there's  no 
room  for  my  things,"  Angela  teased  back. 

She  was  apparently  willing  to  leave  the  argu- 
ment so,  for  as  the  girls  dropped  into  comfortable 
positions  on  the  floor  and  window  seat,  she  dis- 


Seniors !  15 

carded  the  shoe  she  was  holding,  stuffed  a  pillow 
behind  her  and  folded  her  hands.  Her  guests 
stayed  until  dinner  time  and  talked.  It  was  al- 
most a  class  meeting;  for  it  was  a  well  established 
fact  that  when  these  four  girls  decided  anything 
the  rest  of  the  class  agreed  with  an  alacrity  that 
was  very  flattering  to  their  good  judgment. 

It  was  not  until  Mrs.  Baird,  who  sat  at  the  Sen- 
ior table  the  first  night  as  a  special  favor,  asked 
them  if  they  had  discovered  any  homesick  new 
girls,  that  they  realized  that  as  Seniors,  holding 
responsible  positions  in  the  school,  they  had  failed 
already. 

After  dinner  they  stopped  to  consult  on  the 
Bridge  of  Sighs — the  covered  way  that  connected 
the  two  main  buildings  of  the  school. 

*  *  Well,  what 's  to  be  done  ? ' '  inquired  Lois.  '  *  In- 
stead of  deciding  what  color  shoes  we'd  wear  at 
commencement  we  should  have  been  drying  some- 
body's eyes." 

" Quite  right,"  Betty  mimicked  Lois*  righteous 
tones.  "We  were  very  selfish;  in  fact,  I'm 
ashamed  of  us.  Let's  go  to  Assembly  Hall  and 
be  giddy  little  cheerers  up. ' ' 

Polly  laughed. 

"Oh,  Bet,  be  sensible!  Hasn't  your  observa- 
tion in  the  past  taught  you  that  homesick  girls 


16    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

don't  go  to  Assembly  Hall  to  cry?  They  tuck  their 
silly  heads  under  their  protecting  pillows  in  their 
own  room.  Let's  go  to  Freshman  Lane." 

"Why  Freshman?"  Angela  inquired  softly. 
"Freshmen  are  too  young  and  excited  to  be  home- 
sick so  soon.  Let's  go  to  the  Sophs  quarters." 

They  went,  tapping  gently  at  every  door  all  the 
way  down  the  corridor,  but  received  no  response. 

"They're  a  heartless  lot,"  Betty  declared  at  the 
last  door.  "Not  one  of  them  in  tears.  It's  not 
right,  they're  entirely  too  cheerful  for  so  young  a 
class. ' '  And  she  scowled  wrathf ully  as  an  indica- 
tion of  her  displeasure. 

"Never  mind,  Bet,"  Lois  laughed,  "maybe  we'll 
have  better  luck  with  the  Juniors. ' ' 

Betty  took  heart  and  led  the  way. 

Lois  was  right,  though  the  doleful  sobs  that 
met  their  ears  at  the  door  of  Junior  Mansions — 
nicknamed  the  year  before  because  the  present 
Seniors  had  been  so  very  elegant — could  hardly 
be  called  luck. 

"Jemima!"  Betty  exclaimed.  "A  deluge,  our 
search  proves  fruitful  at  last." 

Polly  went  to  the  door  through  which  the  sounds 
came  and  pushed  it  open. 

The  room  was  dark.  The  light  from  the  hall 
cast  a  streak  over  the  bare  floor  and  discovered  a 


Seniors !  17 

heap  of  something  half  on,  and  half  off  the  bed. 
At  one  side  of  the  room  a  wicker  suitcase  stood 
beside  the  dresser,  its  swelling  sides  proclaimed  it 
still  unpacked.  A  hat  and  coat  were  flung  on  the 
chair — but  these  were  minor  details.  The  heart- 
breaking sobs  filled  every  corner  of  the  room,  and 
the  figure  on  the  bed  heaved  convulsively  with 
each  one. 

Polly  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"What's  the  matter,  homesick  I "  she  asked 
cheerfully  as  she  pressed  the  electric  button  and 
flooded  the  room  with  light. 

On  closer  inspection  they  saw  that  the  girl  had 
heaps  of  black  hair  that  had  become  unfastened 
and  lay  in  a  heavy  coil  on  the  bed.  Also,  she  had 
on  a  crumpled  silk  waist  and  a  dark  green 
skirt. 

Lois  and  Betty  helped  her  on  to  the  bed  and 
Polly  bathed  her  face  with  cold  water.  Angela 
was  tongue-tied,  but  she  patted  her  hand  and 
murmured  incoherent  things.  Finally  the  sobs 
stopped. 

"We've  got  to  get  her  out  of  here,"  Lois 
whispered.  "Don't  you  want  to  do  up  your  hair 
and  come  down  to  the  Assembly  Hall?"  she  said 
aloud.  "Everybody's  dancing." 

The  new  girl — she  was  still  just  the  new  girl, 


18     Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

for  she  had  refused  to  tell  her  name,  or  say  one 
word — sat  up  and  smoothed  her  waist. 

Betty  sighed  with  relief. 

"'Come  on,  that's  right,"  she  said  encouragingly. 
"Don't  mind  about  your  eyes,  all  the  other  new 
girls  will  have  red  ones  too.  Why  when  I  was  a 
new  girl,"  she  said  grandly,  "I  cried  for  weeks." 

Polly  and  Lois  and  Angela  gasped.  Betty  had 
never  been  known  to  shed  a  tear.  As  for  weeks  of 
them,  that  was  a  bit  extravagant.  But  the  fib  had 
the  desired  effect.  The  new  girl  turned  her  large, 
drenched  gray  eyes  on  Betty  and  studied  her  care- 
fully. 

"I  reckon  you  looked  something  like  a  picked 
buzzard  when  you  got  through,"  she  said  with  a 
broad  Southern  accent. 

There  was  an  astonished  silence  for  a  second, 
then  the  girls  burst  into  peals  of  laughter.  It  was 
contagious,  happy  laughter,  and  the  new  girl, 
after  a  hesitating  minute,  joined  in.  After  that, 
it  was  an  easy  matter  to  make  conversation  and  to 
persuade  her  to  leave  her  room. 

The  girls  found  out  that  she  was  Fanny  Gerard, 
and  had  come  straight  from  South  Carolina.  Her 
father — she  had  no  mother — had  brought  her  to 
school  and  then  returned  to  the  city  by  the  next 
train.  Unfortunately,  it  had  been  Miss  Hale,  the 


Seniors !  19 

Latin  teacher — nicknamed  the  Spartan  years  be- 
fore by  Betty,  the  only  unpopular  teacher  in 
Seddon  Hall — who  had  shown  Fanny  to  her 
room. 

"She  just  opened  the  do*  and  pointed  at  that 
little  old  plain  room  with  her  bony  ringer  and  said : 
1  This  is  you  alls  room,  Miss  Gerard, '  and  left  me. 
I  tell  you  I  like  to  died. ' ' 

The  tears  threatened  to  burst  forth  again. 
Betty  and  Polly  hastened  to  explain  that  the  Spar- 
tan was  not  even  to  be  considered  as  part  of  Sed- 
don Hall.  And  they  brought  back  the  smiles  when 
they  explained  that  the  Bridge  of  Sighs  was  so 
named  because  the  Spartan's  room  was  at  the  end 
of  it. 

All  together,  they  made  a  very  satisfactory  cure 
and  when  they  left  Fanny  for  the  night,  after 
having  unpacked  her  suitcase  for  her,  she  was 
quite  bright  and  contented. 

"What  do  you  think  of  her?"  Polly  demanded, 
when  she  and  Lois  were  alone,  after  the  good  night 
bell. 

Lois  considered  a  minute. 

"She's  rare,  and  I  think  she's  going  to  be  worth 
cultivating.  Certainly  she's  funny,"  she  said. 

"Seddon  Hallish,  you  mean?"  Polly  inquired. 

"No,  not  exactly." 


20    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

1 '  She  couldn  't  take  Connie 's  place  for  instance  I '  ' 

'  *  Never  in  a  thousand  years ! ' ' 

"Lois.'* 

"Yes." 

"You're  thinking  about  the  same  thing  I  am.'* 

"What  are  you  thinking  of!" 

"The  five  boy's  pictures  she  brought  in  her  suit- 
case." 

"Yes,  I  was.  Sort  of  silly  of  her.  Maybe  they 
are  her  brothers." 

"They're  not,  she's  an  only  child." 

"Well,  all  Southern  girls  are  sentimental." 

Polly  was  almost  asleep. 

* '  Maybe  we  can  cure  her, ' '  she  said. 

"Maybe,"  Lois  answered  drowsily. 

"We're  Seniors,  Lo." 

"Yes.    This  is  the  first  night  of  our  last  year." 

"I  know,  pretty  much  all  right  rooming  to- 
gether, isn't  it?" 

"You  bet." 

"Goodnight." 

"Goodnight." 


Polly  was  standing  on  a  chair  which  threatened 
every  minute  to  topple  from  its  precarious  position  on 
her  bed.  Pa<re  21 


CHAPTER  II 

A   CLASS   MEETING 

"  REALLY  Lo,  I  think  its  downright  inconsider- 
ate of  you  to  be  for  Princeton.'*  Polly  was 
standing  on  a  chair  which  threatened  every  min- 
ute to  topple  from  its  precarious  position  on  her 
bed  and  she  was  struggling  with  a  huge  Harvard 
banner.  She  made  the  above  statement  with 
spirit. 

Lois,  on  the  other  side  of  the  room,  was  in 
nearly  the  same  position,  only  she  was  struggling 
with  a  Princeton  banner. 

"I  don't  see  why,"  she  answered  Polly's  remark 
casually,  and  went  on  tacking. 

"Because  that  awful  orange  color  simply  fights 
with  my  crimson.  We  can't  have  them  in  the 
same  room." 

Lois  descended  to  the  floor  and  surveyed  the  two 
banners. 

"No,  we  can't,"  she  said  decidedly.  "Mine 
goes  better  with  the  room  than  yours,  don't  you 
think?"  she  asked,  after  a  pause,  with  just  a  little 
too  much  show  at  indifference. 

21 


22    Polly 's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"No,  I  don't."  Polly's  reply  was  prompt. 
" Color  scheme  doesn't  matter  to  me  anyway,  but 
Bob 's  flag  is  going  up  somewhere. ' ' 

Fortunately,  at  this  moment  Betty  burst  into  the 
room. 

"News,  good  news,"  she  exclaimed.  "The  Art 
teacher  has  just  arrived  and  I've  met  her.  She's 
a  duck.  Hello,  what's  the  matter?"  she  inquired, 
suddenly  interrupting  herself.  "Is  this  flag  day, 
and  do  you  really  mean  you  are  going  to  hang  both 
those  banners?" 

"No,  we're  not,"  Lois  answered,  and  Polly 
laughed. 

"The  trouble  is,  Bet,  we  can't  decide  which  one 
we  will  hang.  Lo,  of  course,  with  her  artistic 
ideas,  thinks  the  orange  would  go  better  with  the 
browns  of  the  rug  and  screen,  and  I  want  my 
Harvard  banner  up  through  sentiment.  Bob  gave 
it  to  me  and  he  '11  probably  make  the  track  this  year 
and  anyway,  he's  Lois'  brother  and  she's  always 
been  for  Harvard  until  Frank  decided  on  Prince- 
ton and  gave  her  that."  Polly  gazed  with  resent- 
ment on  the  banner  and  Lois  both. 

"Did  Frank  give  Lo  that?  Jemima!  I  didn't 
know  they  were  such  good  friends." 

Frank  Preston  was  a  cousin  of  Louise  Preston, 
an  old  Seddon  Hall  girl,  Lois  and  Polly  had  met 


A  Class  Meeting  23 

him  three  summers  before,  while  they  were  visit- 
ing Louise,  and  Lois  and  he  had  kept  up  the 
friendship  ever  since. 

"Of  course  he  gave  it  to  me,  and  Polly  you 
know  he  had  a  thousand  and  one  good  reasons  for 
going  to  Princeton.  Harvard  is  not  the  only  col- 
lege. " 

"Only  one  I'd  go  to  if  I  were  a  boy,"  Polly  an- 
swered airily.  "But  what  will  we  do?  I  can't 
hold  this  up  all  day.  * ' 

Betty  had  a  sudden  inspiration. 

"I'll  tell  you,"  she  announced.  "Take  turns, 
Poll,  you  put  yours  up  this  week  and  Lo  can  have 
hers  next,  and  there  you  are."  She  looked  proud 
at  having  solved  the  difficulty. 

"Bet,  you're  a  genius!"  Polly  exclaimed,  and 
Lois  added  her  quota  of  praise. 

"Put  yours  up  first,  Poll,"  she  said. 

But  Polly  protested. 

"No,  yours  is  up  already;  leave  it,  and  mine  can 
go  up  next  week."  So  it  was  decided. 

"Now,  stop  work  and  let's  talk,"  Betty  sug- 
gested. "Haven't  you  anything  to  eat?" 

"Jam,  crackers  and  peanut  butter  in  the  win- 
dow box,"  Lois  told  her.  "Get  them  out  and  tell 
us  about  the  Art  teacher;  I'm  going  to  go  on 
hanging  pictures." 


24    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Well,  she's  a  duck,  I  told  yon  that,  and  an  old 
friend  of  Mrs.  Baird;  her  first  name  is  Janet.  I 
was  standing  in  the  hall  when  she  arrived  and  I 
carried  her  bag  to  her  room.  She  has  the  one 
next  to  the  Spartan's,  poor  soul!" 

"Well  how  do  you  know  she's  nice?"  Polly  in- 
sisted. 

"Because  she's  something  like  Mrs.  Baird." 

"Oh,  well,  of  course  that's  enough;  she  couldn't 
be  just  as  nice." 

"No,  naturally  not.  There's  only  one  Mrs. 
Baird,  which  reminds  me — there's  a  young  child" 
— Betty  said  the  words  with  emphasis — "A  Fresh- 
man, I  think,  who  needs  serious  attention.  I  heard 
her  fussing  to-day ;  something  was  wrong  and  she 
said  'Mrs.  Baird  made  her  sick.'  " 

Lois  looked  horrified,  but  Polly  only  shrugged 
her  shoulders. 

"She  won't  last  long,"  she  said  indifferently, 
and  Betty  felt  ashamed  of  having  bothered  to  give 
the  child  a  lecture. 

"When  do  we  have  a  Class  meeting?"  she  asked, 
to  change  the  subject.  "We've  got  to  do  some- 
thing about  the  welcome  dance. ' ' 

"Why  not  now?"  Lois  stopped  hammering. 
"Let's  get  the  Seniors  all  in  here." 

It  was  only  a  matter  of  a  few  minut«i  before 


A  Class  Meeting  25 

this  was  accomplished,  for  Betty  went  to  rout  them 
out. 

Angela  came  first  to  be  followed  by  the  two 
Dorothys,  then  Mildred  Weeks  and  Evelin  Hat- 
field,  two  girls  who  had  come  to  Seddon  Hall  the 
year  before.  Betty  followed  them. 

"Everybody  here?"  she  asked.  "Don't  you 
think  we'd  better  elect  officers  first  off?  Then 
some  one  will  be  able  to  start  things.  Here's  some 
paper,"  she  added,  tearing  off  sheets  and  passing 
them  around. 

But  things  were  not  to  run  so  smoothly.  One  of 
the  Dorothys  rose  to  protest. 

"Don't  you  think  it  would  be  more  formal  if  we 
held  a  real  meeting  in  one  of  the  classrooms  with 
Mrs.  Baird  there,"  she  said.  "Then  we  could 
have  a  ballot  box  and  do  the  thing  properly. ' ' 

Polly  and  Lois  exchanged  glances.  The  Doro- 
thys had  always  been  dissenting  voices  ever  since 
Freshman  days. 

Betty  tore  her  hair  in  secret  behind  the  ward- 
robe. 

It  was  Angela's  slow  drawl  that  settled  the  ques- 
tion. 

"It  would  be  more  formal,"  she  agreed,  "but 
what  would  be  the  use?  Mrs.  Baird  is  much  too 
buiy  to  come,  the  classrooms  are  always  stuffy 


26    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

after  school  and  besides,  we  couldn't  take  the  jam 
along,  it's  against  the  rules." 

Mildred  and  Evelin,  who  had  been  rather  in- 
clined to  favor  the  Dorothys,  were  won  over  by 
this  and  the  point  was  carried. 

The  meeting  stayed  where  it  was  and  the  vote 
was  cast.  Lois  was  elected  President;  Angela, 
Treasurer ;  Betty,  Editor  of  the  school  paper ;  and 
Polly,  Secretary.  When  the  congratulations  were 
over  they  started  with  their  plans  for  the  welcome 
dance. 

"Do  let's  have  it  different,"  beseeched  Betty. 
"Last  year  it  was  awful.  All  the  new  girls  cried 
and  there  wasn't  enough  ice  cream." 

"How  can  we  make  it  different?  There's  noth- 
ing to  do  but  dance."  Dot  Mead  protested.  She 
was  not  altogether  happy  over  the  election. 

"Let's  make  more  of  a  feature  of  the  new  girls," 
Mildred  said  shyly.  "Last  year  I  know  Evelin 
and  I  felt  awfully  out  of  it.  Couldn't  we — " 

"You've  hit  the  nail  on  the  head,"  Polly  ex- 
claimed. "We'll  find  some  new  idea  of  doing 
things  so  that  the  new  girls  will  really  feel  it's 
their  dance.  Everybody  think." 

While  these  preparations  were  going  on  in  the 
(Senior  Alley — another  meeting,  less  important  in 


A  Class  Meeting  27 

character,  but  equally  heated  as  to  discussion,  was 
raging  in  Freshman  Lane. 

Jane  Eamsey,  who  had  been  at  Seddon  Hall 
for  three  years  in  the  lower  school  and  had  at 
last  reached  the  dignity  of  Freshman,  was  giv- 
ing an  admiring  group  of  new  girls  some  advice. 

There  were  five  of  them,  Catherine  and  Helen 
Clay,  two  sisters — Catherine  a  Freshman  and 
Hellen  a  Sophomore,  Winifred  Hayes,  another 
Sophomore,  and  Phylis  Guile.  Phylis  Guile  could 
hardly  be  classed  with  the  rest  of  the  new  girls. 
Her  big  sister  Florence,  who  had  been  a  Senior 
three  years  before,  had  told  her  all  about  Seddon 
Hall,  and  the  thought  of  going  anywhere  else  had 
never  entered  her  head.  She  knew  so  much  about 
everything,  that  Jane,  whose  ideas  of  being  a 
Freshman  meant  having  a  chum,  took  to  her  at 
once,  and  they  vowed  eternal  friendship. 

Jane,  whose  hair  was  black,  almost  as  black  as 
her  eyes,  contrasted  strangely  with  Phylis'  daz- 
zling fairness.  At  present,  they  were  doing  most 
of  the  talking. 

"Do  the  new  girls  vote  for  Captain  too?"  Phylis 
asked.  "Florence  has  told  me  of  course,  but  I've 
forgotten." 

"Yes,  all  the  upper  school,"  Jane  told  her. 


28    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

They  were  talking  of  the  coming  basket  ball  elec- 
tion. 

"But  how  do  we  know  who  to  vote  for?"  de- 
manded Helen.  "  We've  never  seen  them  play.*' 

''You  ask  an  old  girl,"  Jane  replied  loftily. 
"As  it  happens,  this  year  they'll  all  tell  you  the 
same  thing. ' ' 

"What?" 

"Oh,  I  know,"  Phylis  answered  eagerly. 
"They'll  tell  you  to  vote  for  Polly  Pendleton. 
Florence  told  me  she  played  a  wonderful  game, 
and  to  be  sure  and  vote  for  her. ' ' 

"She  does,  too,"  Jane  agreed  with  enthusiasm, 
"but  so  does  Lois  Farwell.  I  can't  make  up  my 
mind  which  to  choose,  and  it's  awfully  impor- 
tant." 

"Is  Polly  the  one  that  sits  next  to  Mrs.  Baird  on 
the  right,"  Catherine  asked,  "with  the  brown 
hair?" 

"Yes,  that's  Polly." 

"Well,  I  love  her;  she's  so  pretty;  and,  anyway, 
I'm  going  to  vote  for  her,"  she  finished. 

"Who's  the  beautiful  Senior  with  golden  hair?" 
Winifred  inquired.  "I'd  like  to  vote  for  her." 

Jane  laughed  heartily.  Sometimes  news  of  the 
upper  school  leaked  into  the  lower,  and  she  had 
heard  Angela's  views  on  all  strenuous  sports. 


A  Class  Meeting  29 

''That's  Angela  Hollywood;  she's  awfully 
funny,  but,  oh  dear,  she  can't  play  basketball;  why 
she 's  never  even  made  the  team. ' ' 

"Tell  us  who'll  make  it  this  year?"  Helen  asked. 
"Do  new  girls  ever  get  on?"  she  added  wistfully. 

"Polly  was  the  only  one  who  made  it;  that  is 
for  five  years,"  Phylis  explained;  "she  was  a  new 
girl  and  a  Freshman.  My  sister's  best  friend, 
Louise  Preston,  was  captain  that  year.  I  wish 
it  would  happen  again;  but  no  fear,  I  guess  we'll 
have  to  wait. ' ' 

"If  we  sit  here  talking  about  it,  I'll  begin  to 
hope,"  and  Jane  jumped  up  and  began  brushing 
her  hair.  "It's  time  to  dress  anyway." 

Her  guests  took  the  hint  and  departed,  all  except 
Phylis. 

"That  spoils  it  all,"  she  said,  when  the  door 
closed. 

' '  All  what  ? ' '  Jane  inquired. 

"Why,  I'd  picked  some  flowers,  and  I  was  going 
to  give  them  to  Polly,  but  now  if  she's  going  to 
be  the  captain — it  looks — " 

"Nonsense;  it  does  not,"  Jane  contradicted. 
"Send  them  but  don't  be  silly  about  it,  Polly 
wouldn't  think  of  letting  you  have  a  crush  on  her." 

"Will  you  put  your  name  on  the  card,  too?" 
Phylis  asked. 


30    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

Jane  considered.  "I  will  if  you  send  them  to 
Lois,  too,"  she  said,  thereby  giving  away  a  secret 
she  had  hoped  to  keep. 

After  the  Senior  meeting  Polly  decided  she  need- 
ed air. 

"I'm  going  now,  this  minute, "  she  declared. 
"I'm  suffocated." 

Lois,  who  had  thrown  herself  down  on  the  bed 
between  laughter  and  tears,  murmured  a  vague 
promise  to  follow.  She  changed  her  mind  later 
and  decided  on  a  cold  shower  instead. 

As  she  went  down  the  stairs  to  Eoman  Alley, 
she  heard  some  one  stumble,  and  then  the  thud, 
thud,  of  falling  boxes. 

"Who  is  it,  did  you  hurt  yourself?"  she  called, 
and  hurried  around  the  turn  of  the  stairs.  A  re- 
markably pretty  woman  looked  up  from  a  water- 
fall of  canvases. 

"No;  but  I  deserved  to,  for  carrying  a  lazy 
man's  load,"  she  laughed. 

"Let  me  help,"  Lois  offered,  starting  to  pick 
up  the  canvases,  "you  must  be  Miss  Crosby.  Oh, 
but  that's  nice,"  she  added  suddenly,  holding  out 
a  sketch  at  arm's  length. 

Miss  Crosby  smiled. 

*  *  Do  you  like  it  ?  I  did  it  this  summer.  Are  you 
interested  in  drawing?"  she  asked. 


A  Class  Meeting  31 

"Oh,  yesl"  Lois's  tone  was  surprised — as  if 
any  one  could  doubt  such  a  well  known  fact. 

1  'Then  you  must  be  Lois  Farwell,"  she  said. 

"Why,  I  am." 

Miss  Crosby 's  smile  broadened.  * '  I  thought  you 
were ;  you  see  Mrs.  Baird  told  me — "  she  hesitated, 
"well  it  doesn't  matter  what.  If  you'll  help  me 
up  with  these  things  I'll  be  ever  so  grateful." 

Together  they  carried  all  the  pictures  up  to 
Miss  Crosby's  room,  and  Lois  stood  them  up 
against  the  bed  and  walls,  and  then  admired  them. 

Miss  Crosby  made  her  talk,  and  understood 
what  she  said,  which  was  difficult  for  most  people 
when  Lois  talked  art.  In  fact  she  completely  for- 
got she  was  Senior  President,  and  had  barely  time 
to  scramble  into  her  dress  and  reach  the  plat- 
form to  announce  to  the  assembled  old  girls  the 
plans  for  the  coming  dance. 

It  was  not  until  after  study  hour  that  Polly  and 
she  returned  to  their  room  and  found  the  flowers. 
Polly  almost  stepped  on  them  as  she  opened  the 
door. 

"What  under  the  sun?"  Lois  turned  on  the 
light.  "Flowers?  do  look!  To  Polly  and  Lois 
from  Jane  and  Phylis. ' ' 

"Crushes,"  gasped  Lois,  "how  awful!" 

Then  they  looked  at  each  other  and  laughed. 


CHAPTER  III 

FANNY 

SUNDAYS,  that  is  to  say,  Boarding  School  Sun- 
days, are  apt  to  be  longer  than  any  of  the  other 
days  in  the  week. 

Certainly  it  was  so  of  Seddon  Hall.  Mrs.  Baird 
thought  the  girls  needed  "time  off  to  think,"  as 
she  expressed  it,  so  that,  after  the  morning  serv- 
ice in  the  little  village  church,  the  rest  of  the  day 
was  free. 

It  had  always  proved  a  good  idea,  for  after  a 
week  spent  in  obedience  to  bells,  a  whole  day  to 
do  as  you  please  in,  has  an  exhilarating  effect. 

But  this  particular  first  Sunday  looked  as  if  it 
were  going  to  disprove  the  efficiency  of  the  plan. 

It  was  the  day  after  the  Welcome  Dance  to  the 
new  girls,  and  it  was  raining.  Not  a  nice,  heavy 
pouring  rain,  but  a  dreary  persistent  drizzle. 
The  girls  wandered  aimlessly  about  the  corridors 
in  the  most  woe-begone  fashion,  for  there  was 
no  chance  of  getting  out  of  doors  for  a  walk. 

The  dance  the  night  before  had  proved  a  great 

32 


Fanny  33 

success.  Instead  of  each  old  girl  taking  a  new 
girl,  as  had  formerly  been  the  custom,  Polly's 
versatile  brain  had  decided  on  a  far  better 
plan. 

The  new  girls  arrived  in  a  body  in  Assembly 
Hall  and  were  received  by  their  class  and  formally 
introduced  to  one  another.  Then  a  daisy  chain 
started  and  was  so  arranged  that  before  it  was 
over,  every  one  had  met  and  spoken  to  every  one 
else  in  the  school.  By  the  time  the  refreshments 
arrived,  all  the  girls  were  in  a  gale  and  not  a 
tear  was  shed. 

Sunday,  however,  was  a  different  matter.  Ev- 
erybody felt  damp  and  cold  in  church,  and  the 
sermon  had  been  very  long.  Even  Betty  was  out 
of  sorts. 

"Do  you  know,"  she  said,  crossly — she  and  An- 
gela were  in  Polly's  and  Lois'  room  the  early  part 
of  the  afternoon.  "I'm  tired  of  us.  We  are  all 
so  afraid  of  letting  anybody  else  into  our  select 
company  that  we  are  growing  positively  stuck  up. 
Deny  it,  if  you  can,"  she  persisted,  as  Polly  looked 
up  in  surprise.  ' '  Here  we  sit  like  graven  images, 
when  we  ought  to  be  in  Assembly  Hall.  Come 
on." 

"Oh,  Bet,  you're  so  energetic,"  Angela 
drawled,  "and  we're  so  comfy." 


34    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Assembly  Hall  won't  be  any  fun,"  Polly  pro- 
tested. "I'm  crazy  to  do  something  too,  but — " 

1 '  Let 's  go  get  Fanny, ' '  Lois  suggested.  '  *  She 's 
bound  to  make  us  laugh.  I  was  talking  to  her 
before  church  this  morning.  She  was  fussing 
about  having  to  carry  so  many  subjects;  when  she 
got  to  geometry  she  waxed  eloquent.  'I  declare 
there's  no  use  my  wasting  my  time  on  arithmetic,' 
she  said,  and  when  I  told  her  there  was  a  slight 
difference  between  the  two,  she  wouldn't  have  it. 
'It's  all  the  same  thing;  maybe  one's  a  tiny  bit 
more  elaborate  than  the  other,  but  what's  the  use 
of  proving  all  those  angles  equal.  I  don't  reckon 
I'll  ever  be  a  carpenter;  so  there's  just  no  sense 
in  it. '  I  had  to  laugh  at  her, ' '  Lois  finished. 

"Oh,  Fanny's  rare,"  Betty  agreed.  "Let's  go 
see  if  she's  in  her  room  instead  of  asking  her 
down  here.  I'm  tired  of  Senior  Alley." 

Polly  and  Lois  agreed  with  alacrity,  but  Angela 
insisted  she  had  letters  to  write  and  they  left 
her  knowing  quite  well  there  would  be  no  jam  left 
when  they  returned. 

Fanny  was  in  her  room,  but  instead  of  opening 
the  door  to  Polly's  knock,  she  called  out: 

"Who  all's  there?" 

"We  are,"  Lois  answered  for  them.  "May  we 
come  in?" 


Fanny  35 

The  annoyed  tone  vanished  from  Fanny's  voice. 

' '  Oh,  you  all, ' '  she  called ; ' '  come  in,  of  course ; ' ' 
— and  as  they  entered — "I  thought  maybe  it  was 
some  of  those  impertinent  young  Freshmen  com- 
ing to  give  me  advice,  and  I  just  couldn't  be 
bothered  with  them.  That's  why  I  didn't  sound 
too  cordial." 

She  was  sitting  on  the  floor  in  the  middle  of 
her  room,  surrounded  by  letters  and  bands  of 
every  color  ribbon. 

"I  hope  we're  not  disturbing  you?"  Polly  said, 
rather  taken  aback  at  the  sight  of  her.  She 
couldn't  quite  understand  all  the  letters,  but  she 
had  her  suspicions. 

Betty  found  a  place  to  sit,  or  rather  perch,  on 
the  bed. 

"  Playing  postoffice?"  she  asked  with  a  grin. 

But  Fanny  refused  to  be  teased.  She  continued 
to  sort  out  her  letters,  while  she  explained  their 
presence. 

i  "You  see,"  she  began  dreamily,  "these  here 
notes  are  all  from  my  boy  friends ;  some  of  them 
are  three  years  old." 

* '  The  friends  f ' '  queried  Lois. 

"No,  stupid,  the  letters,"  Betty  said  hastily  in 
an  aside.  "Yes,  go  on,"  she  encouraged  Fanny. 

"And  every  now  and  then  I  like  to  read  them 


36    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

over;  some  of  them  are  awfully  sweet,  especially 
Jack's." 

"Who's  Jack?"  her  listeners  demanded  in 
chorus. 

"Oh,  Jack's  my  favorite  admirer,"  she  admitted, 
rather  than  stated.  "He's  crazy  about  me,  or  so 
he  says.  I  reckon  I'll  just  have  to  marry  him  one 
of  these  days.  He's  so  handsome — "  She 
paused,  a  sentimental  smile  of  remembrance 
wreathing  her  face. 

"How  thrilling !  do  tell  us,"  Betty  begged.  She 
was  gurgling  with  joy  inside,  and  like  Polly  and 
Lois,  she  was  highly  amused.  They  were  all 
laughing  at  Fanny,  rather  than  with  her,  which 
was  unkind  and  inexcusable,  as  they  had  encour- 
aged the  recital,  but  her  sentimental  attitude  was 
beyond  their  understanding. 

Boys  figured  largely  in  all  their  thoughts,  it's 
true,  but  in  a  totally  different  way.  Polly,  for  in- 
stance, quite  frankly  admired  Bob  Farwell.  She 
endowed  him  with  every  virtue.  He  was  tremen- 
dously clever.  He  was  the  most  wonderful  athlete, 
and  he  loved  dogs — especially  Polly's  dogs — in 
fact  he  was  altogether  perfect  in  her  eyes — but 
she  couldn't  imagine  tying  up  his  letters  in  baby 
blue  ribbons  and  keeping  them  in  her  top  drawer. 


Fanny  37 

And  Lois,  who  was  quite  extravagantly  fond  of 
Frank  Preston,  would  have  repudiated  and  em- 
phatically denied  any  suggestion  of  his  being  a 
suitor. 

As  for  Betty — the  idea  of  liking  a  boy  just  be- 
cause he  was  handsome,  was  too  foolish  to  even 
consider.  The  fact  that  Dick  Saxon — supposedly 
her  arch  enemy,  but  really  her  best  friend — had 
flaming  red  hair  and  was  undeniably  homely — 
may,  of  course,  had  something  to  do  with  her  dis- 
gust for  good  looks.  Like  lots  of  other  girls,  The 
Three  judged  boys  by  their  ability  to  do;  while 
the  road  to  Fanny  's  heart  was  by  way  of  graceful 
and  charming  compliments. 

1  'You  were  saying — "  Polly  interrupted  Fan- 
ny's dream. 

"Why,  let  me  see — about  Jack?  He's  really 
stunning  in  his  uniform — he  goes  to  military  school 
— I  have  a  lot  of  buttons  off  his  coat. ' ' 

At  this  point,  Lois,  much  to  the  disgust  of  Polly 
and  Betty,  instead  of  waiting  for  more  of  Jack, 
inquired : 

"Why  have  you  all  these  colored  ribbons  to  tie 
up  your  letters  f  I  thought  all  love  letters  had  to 
be  tied  in  blue?" 

Fanny  picked  up  the  various  bands,  looked  at 


38    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

them  while  she  went  over  in  her  mind  whether  or 
not  she  would  tell  them  her  special  system.  It 
was  a  clever  idea,  so  she  decided  she  would. 

"Blue  is  for  love  letters,"  she  told  Lois,  "be- 
cause blue  is  true.  I  tie  all  Jack's  letters  in  blue. 
Yellow  means  fickle — "  She  paused.  "Well, 
there  is  a  boy,"  she  proceeded  reluctantly,  "down 
home,  who  used  to  like  me  until  he  met  a  cousin 
of  mine,  and  she  just  naturally  cut  me  out;  so  I 
tie  his  letters  with  yellow  ribbon.  This  here 
green,"  she  took  up  two  letters  tied  with  a  nar- 
row piece  of  baby  ribbon,  "is  for  hope." 

"Hope!"  Lois  stifled  a  laugh.  "Do  you  mean 
you  hope  for  more  f ' ' 

Fanny  had  heard  the  giggle  and  looked  up  in 
surprise.  A  little  hurt  look  stole  across  her  face. 

"I  reckon  you  all  think  I'm  silly,"  she  said, 
slowly,  "but  you  see,  down  home,  there's  not  much 
to  do  between  holidays,  when  the  boys  come,  ex- 
cept write  letters  and  wait  for  mail,  and  all  the 
girls  I — " 

She  stopped ;  a  big  lump  rose  in  her  throat,  and 
her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

The  Three  felt  properly  ashamed  of  themselves. 
Polly  finally  broke  the  embarrassed  silence. 

"We  don't  think  you're  silly  at  all,"  she  fibbed 
consolingly.  "If  you  want  to  keep  your  letters, 


Fanny  39 

why  shouldn't  you  tie  them  up  in  appropriate  col- 
ored ribbons  ? ' ' 

"But  you  wouldn't  keep  yours,"  Fanny  replied 
with  more  insight  than  they  had  given  her  credit 
for. 

"Well,  no;  I  wouldn't,  that  is,  I  don't,"  Polly 
answered,  lamely.  And  Betty  seized  the  first  op- 
portunity to  change  the  subject. 

"What  did  you  say  about  the  Freshmen  bother- 
ing?" she  asked,  when  Fanny  was  in  smiles  again. 
"They  most  certainly  did,  two  of  them,  Jane  and 
Phylis.  They  came  in  and  wanted  to  know  if  I 
was  homesick."  Fanny  looked  indignant.  "I 
told  them  no.  Then  they  looked  at  all  the  pictures 
on  my  bureau,  and  Jane,  the  sassy  little  thing,  told 
me  if  I  wanted  to  get  along  at  Seddon  Hall,  I'd 
have  to  stop  being  boy  crazy.  I  just  told  them  to 
go  on  about  their  business,  right  quick,  and  they 
went,"  she  finished  triumphantly. 

"Jemima!  the  little — "  Betty  stopped  from 
sneer  astonishment.  Polly  and  Lois  exchanged 
understanding  glances. 

The  next  day  all  the  girls  assembled  in  the  gym, 
a  round  building  about  a  hundred  feet  from  the 
school.  A  basket  ball  court  took  up  most  of  the 
floor  space.  A  balcony  for  spectators  ran  around 
three  sides  of  the  room.  Every  possible  device 


40    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

hung  from  the  ceiling,  rings,  ladders,  trapezes  and 
horizontal  bars,  but  for  the  most  part,  these  were 
dusty  and  disused. 

Seddon  Hall  centered  all  its  faculty  on  basket 
ball.  Twice  a  year,  in  February  and  June,  the 
team  played  outside  schools  and  almost  always 
came  out  victorious. 

To-day,  because  it  was  raining  still,  most  of  the 
girls  entered  for  the  first  try  out.  The  Seniors 
sat  in  the  balcony  and  watched,  while  every  girl 
had  a  chance  to  pass  the  basket  ball  and  try  for  a 
basket. 

"Not  a  very  likely  crowd,"  Polly  mused, 
"hardly  a  decent  play." 

"It's  too  early  to  tell,  in  all  this  mob,"  Lois 
answered. 

"I'm  dizzy  watching  them.  I  see  that  little  imp 
of  a  Jane  with  Phylis  Guile  over  in  the  corner. 
Let's  go  and  thank  them  for  the  flowers?"  she 
suggested. 

Polly  groaned — "All  right,  come  on;  you  know 
we've  got  to  put  our  foot — I  mean  feet  down  now 
hard,  and  I  suppose  we  should  talk  to  them  about 
being  so  rude  to  Fanny.  What  do  you  suppose 
they  really  said?" 

Jane  and  Phylis  were  sitting  in  front  of  the 
lockers.  They  saw  the  two  Seniors  coming  to- 


Fanny  41 

wards  them,  but,  because  they  were  very  much 
embarrassed,  they  pretended  they  didn't. 

Lois  started  the  conversation,  rather  abruptly. 
She  was  afraid  to  let  Polly  say  much.  Polly  was 
a  little  bit  too  frank  in  her  opinion,  and  Lois 
dreaded  hurt  feelings  above  all  things. 

"We  found  your  flowers  in  our  room  Saturday 
night, "  she  said,  smiling.  "They  were  very 
pretty,  and  we  want  to  thank  you  for  them." 

"But  you  mustn't  send  any  more,"  Polly  put 
in,  quite  gently  for  her.  "We  really  appreciate 
the  thought,  but — Well,  you  both  know  how  easy 
it  is  for  all  the  rest  of  the  girls  to  cry — Crush — 
Crush." 

"Oh,  but  we  didn't,  haven't,"  Jane  and  Phylis 
blurted  out,  "really,  Polly." 

"Of  course  you  haven't  a  crush,"  Lois  said, 
soothingly.  "We  know  that  you  don't  believe  in 
them,  or  you  would  never  have  lectured  Fanny  so 
^ about  sentimentality,  yesterday." 

Polly  gasped;  was  Lois  really  sarcastic — per- 
sonally— she  preferred  the  direct  attack. 

"You  know,"  she  began  firmly,  "you  had  no 
right  to  talk  that  way  to  a  Junior — it  was  dis- 
respectful, and  Fanny  had  a  right  to  be  angry." 

Jane  and  Phylis  hung  their  heads. 

"I  know  it;  we  didn't  really  mean  to  be  fresh,, v 


42    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

Jane  said,  apologetically.  "We  just  thought 
maybe  Fanny  was  homesick,  and  we'd  cheer  her 
up." 

"We  were  going  in  to  advise  her  who  to  vote  for 
as  captain,  really,"  Phylis  took  up  the  tale,  "but 
she  wouldn't  give  us  a  chance.  After  we  hinted 
that  she  shouldn't  be  boy  crazy  she  sent  us  out. 
It  doesn't  really  matter;  she'll  vote  for  you — " 
Phylis  stopped.  Tears  of  mortification  came  to 
her  eyes.  "Anyway,"  she  finished,  hastily,  "we 
won't  send  you  any  more  flowers,  if  you  don't 
want  us  to,  and,  honestly,  we  won't  have  a  crush." 

Polly  laughed  good  naturedly  and  put  her  arm 
around  Phylis'  shoulder. 

"That's  all  right;  we  don't  want  you  to;  but, 
I'll  tell  you  something.  If  you  would  really  like 
to  do  something  we  would  like — learn  to  play  a 
good  game  of  basket  ball.  You  might  be  needed 
some  day." 

"Poll,  what  made  you  hold  out  hopes  to  those 
children?"  Lois  asked  later,  as  they  waited  for 
their  tubs  to  fill.  They  had  played  basket  ball 
with  some  of  the  old  girls  after  they  had  left  Jane 
and  Phylis. 

"Because  I  thought  they  needed  something  to 
think  about  besides  hurt  feelings;  I  don't  think 
they'll  get  their  hopes  up  for  the  team." 


Fanny  43 

"Well,  you  may  have  been  right,"  Lois  agreed 
slowly.  "Anyway  our  little  lecture  did  them 
good.  Fanny  stopped  me  after  practice  and  told 
me  they  had  apologized." 

Polly  said:  "Oh,  did  they?"  indifferently,  and 
went  to  her  tub  to  turn  off  the  water. 

Her  head  was  in  a  whirl,  and,  suddenly,  tempt- 
ing hopes  ran  riot.  She  stood  looking  at  the 
water  a  minute  and  shivered  in  anticipation  of 
the  plunge. 

"Captain  of  the  basket  ball  team,"  she  whis- 
pered. "I  wonder — " 


CHAPTEK  IV 

BASKET  BALL  ELECTION 

As  Senior  President,  Lois  was  a  decided  fail- 
ure. It  was  not  through  any  lack  of  interest  on 
her  part  in  the  class  and  its  affairs,  but  rather 
because  the  fairies  at  her  christening  had  failed 
to  bestow  upon  her  the  gift  of  leadership  with 
which  Polly  was  so  richly  endowed. 

She  just  couldn't  think  of  the  hundred  and  one 
practical  things  that  needed  attending  to.  Per- 
haps Miss  Crosby  was  partly  to  blame.  She  had 
taken  a  decided  interest  in  Lois  from  their  meet- 
ing on  the  stairs,  and  had  given  her  permission 
to  use  the  studio  at  any  time.  She  had  criticized 
her  work  and  gave  her  helpful  points  not  infre- 
quently in  her  own  room,  where  Lois  often 
dropped  in  at  tea  time. 

But  progress  in  art,  though  beneficial  to  Lois, 
was  of  no  use  to  the  Senior  class.  Polly  was  at 
her  wit's  end.  Lois  had  called  a  class  meeting  the 
day  before  and  forgotten  to  come  to  it.  School 
had  been  running  smoothly  for  over  a  month  by 

44 


Basket  Ball  Election  45 

now,  and  all  the  strangeness  of  the  first  few 
weeks  had  worn  off.  With  Thanksgiving  in 
sight,  the  girls  felt  that  they  were  well  into  the 
year. 

To-day  was  Friday.  After  dinner  the  election 
for  the  basket  ball  captain  was  scheduled  and 
nothing  was  arranged. 

Polly,  after  looking  in  the  gym  and  some  of  the 
classrooms  for  Lois,  returned  to  Senior  Alley. 
She  was  excited  about  the  election,  but  she  was 
more  deeply  concerned  about  Lois.  She  was 
thinking  and  she  walked  slowly  in  consequence. 
As  she  entered  the  corridor  Dot  Mead's  voice, 
high  pitched  and  angry,  made  her  stop  abruptly. 

"Not  a  thing  planned,  the  slips  not  ready,  and 
here  it  is  Friday  afternoon.  Lois  wasn't  like  this 
last  year.  If  she  accepted  the  office  of  president 
why  doesn't  she  act  up  to  it!  Why,  even  the 
Freshmen  are  criticizing."  Her  voice  subsided 
into  a  grumble  of  displeasure. 

Polly  shook  her  head  slowly  and  went  quietly 
into  her  own  room.  The  Dorothys  were  growling 
as  usual.  She  had  to  admit  that  this  time  there 
was  a  little  cause,  too. 

What  had  come  over  Lois.  Polly  realized  with 
a  sudden  drawing  together  of  her  eyebrows,  that 
she  was  seeing  less  and  less  of  her  all  the  time. 


46    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Art!"  she  said,  aloud,  and  laughed.  Then  she 
went  out  to  find  Betty. 

"Something's  got  to  be  done,"  she  announced, 
when  she  found  her  with  Angela,  "and  we've  got 
to  do  it.  Ange,  you  print  the  notice  of  the  elec- 
tion in  red  ink,  and  put  it  on  the  bulletin  board. 
And,  Bet,  you  make  the  ballot  box.  There's  a  big 
square  wooden  box  under  my  bed — you  can  cut  a 
hole  in  it.  I'll  go  and  find  Phylis  and  Jane  and 
get  them  to  help  me  tear  up  paper  slips.  They'll 
love  it,  and  they'll  keep  quiet  about  it." 

"What '11  we  tell  the  rest?"  Angela  asked. 
"They  ought  to  appreciate  our  saving  them  this 
trouble,  but  they  won't,"  she  added  dryly. 

Polly  hesitated  a  moment. 

"We'll  post  a  notice  on  the  board  for  a  meet- 
ing to  be  held  at  two  fifteen,"  she  said  boldly. 

"But  it's  three  o'clock,"  Angela  protested,  but 
Betty  understood. 

"I'm  ashamed  of  your  deceit,  Polly,"  she  said 
with  pretended  scorn,  adding:  "It's  a  bully  idea." 

"No,  it's  not;  I  hate  it;  it's  really  a  written  fib, 
but —  Well,  I'd  do  a  lot  more  than  that  for  Lo," 
Polly  answered. 

"Do  you  mean  put  up  the  sign  so  that  the  other 
girls  will  think  we  had  a  meeting,  and  they  didn't 
come?" 


Basket  Ball  Election  47 

Angela  was  flabbergasted  at  the  idea. 

"Exactly." 

"Oh,  I  see.  They'll  be  awfully  cross  we  didn't 
send  for  them,  and  I  love  the  two  Dorothys  when 
they're  mad.  But,  Poll,  for  goodness*  sake  give 
Lois  a  lecture;  we  don't  want  this  to  happen  too 
often,  one  fib's  enough,"  she  finished  with  a  yawn. 
"Now,  I'll  go  paint  the  sign." 

Jane  and  Phylis  were  only  too  anxious  to  help 
make  the  slips — hero  worship  shone  from  their 
eyes  as  they  took  the  sample  from  Polly. 

"Aren't  you  excited?"  Phylis  asked.  "Landy 
I'd  be  standing  on  my  head  if  I  thought — " 
She  stopped  and  clapped  her  hand  over  her 
mouth. 

Phylis'  frank  adoration  really  amused  Polly. 
She  found  it  very  hard  sometimes  to  face  it  with 
the  proper  Senior  dignity.  The  excited  little 
Freshman  reminded  her  of  herself  at  the  same 
age.  She  almost  wished  the  youngsters  could 
make  the  sub  team  as  she  and  Lois  had  done. 

"I'm  not  excited,  because  I  don't  think  I  have 
much  chance,"  she  answered,  which  was  exactly 
what  both  girls  had  expected  her  to  say. 

"Bring  those  slips  down  to  my  room  when 
you've  finished,  and  don't  say  that  you  helped, 
will  you?  It  wouldn't  do  for  any  one  to  think 


48    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

that  the  Seniors  had  favorite  helpers,"  she  said 
as  she  left  them. 

After  she  had  gone,  Jane  and  Phylis  locked 
their  door  and  talked  in  whispers,  while  they 
worked. 

Polly  went  down  stairs,  printed  out  the  notice 
of  the  class  meeting  and  pinned  it  on  the  bulletin 
board.  She  had  an  uncomfortably  guilty  feeling, 
tinged  with  pride  and  a  certain  amount  of  satis- 
faction when  it  was  up.  For  it  took  real  courage 
for  Polly  to  lie,  even  for  Lois.  Then  she  went  to 
Betty's  room,  helped  her  with  the  box  and  did 
several  other  things. 

It  was  time  to  dress  for  dinner  before  she  re- 
turned to  her  room.  She  was  brushing  her  hair 
before  the  dresser  when  Lois  burst  in  upon  her. 

"Polly!"  she  exclaimed.  " Isn't  this  awful?  I 
forgot  about  to-night  and  all  the  things  there  were 
to  do.  I  was  painting  in  the  studio — oh,  a  duck  of 
a  picture,  the  corner  of  the  house  that  you  see 
from  the  window,  and  I  forgot  all  about  the  time. 
What,  under  the  sun,  will  I  do?" 

Polly's  chance  had  come,  and  she  had  no  inten- 
tion of  letting  it  escape  her. 

"Bather  late  to  do  anything,  don't  you  think?" 
she  asked  indifferently,  still  brushing  her  hair. 

Lois  was  taken  by  surprise.    "But,  Poll,  you've 


Basket  Ball  Election  49 

got  to  help  me,"  she  begged,  "think  how  furious 
the  Dorothys  will  be. ' ' 

' '  Can  you  blame  them  t ' '  Polly  held  her  brush 
in  mid  air.  "As  an  organized  and  governing 
class  we  are  rather  a  joke,  and  the  Dorothys  don't 
like  to  be  laughed  at,"  she  finished,  cuttingly. 

This  was  too  much  for  Lois.  She  had  been 
working  hard  all  afternoon  over  her  picture  and 
she  was  tired.  She  threw  herself  down  on  her  bed 
and  burst  into  tears. 

"Polly,"  she  sobbed,  "don't  act  like  that.  I 
know  I'm  no  good  as  a  president.  I'll  resign  to- 
night, only — oh,  dear — "  The  rest  was  muffled 
in  the  pillow. 

Polly  made  a  start  forward,  stopped,  made  a 
last  effort  to  be  severe,  and  gave  in. 

"Lois,  dear,  don't,"  she  pleaded,  kneeling  be- 
side the  bed,  "don't  cry  any  more,  sit  up  and 
listen  to  me.  Everything's  all  right."  Lois 
dabbed  at  her  eyes.  "We've  had  a  class  meeting, 
the  box  is  ready,  the  slips  are  fixed  and  the  notice 
is  up.  We're  supposed  to  have  had  a  meeting, 
that  is,  I  put  a  sign  up  that  there 'd  be  one  at  two- 
fifteen,  only — "  Polly  hesitated.  "I  put  it  up  at 
three  o'clock.  The  Dorothys  and  Evelin  and 
Helen  will  think  we  had  it  without  them. ' ' 

"Polly!"    Lois  was  beginning  to  understand. 


50    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

*  *  You  deliberately  did  that  to  save  me.  You  dar- 
ling, I  promise  I'll  resign  to-night." 

1  'Resign!"  Polly  stood  up,  a  sparkle  in  her 
eye.  "Lois  Farwell,  if  you  resign,  I'll  never, 
never  speak  to  you  again.  I  mean  it." 

Lois  was  apparently  frightened  into  submission, 
for  she  said: 

"All  right,  Poll,  I  won't."    Very  meekly. 

That  evening  the  two  Dorothys  were  astonished 
and  not  a  little  put  out  with  the  ease  with  which 
the  election  was  gone  through  with.  They  had 
seen  the  class  meeting  sign,  and  with  Evelin  and 
Helen  accepted  it  without  a  doubt,  which  added 
considerably  to  Polly's  discomfort. 

Lois,  now  that  she  was  really  awake  to  the  ne- 
cessity, acted  the  part  of  senior  president,  and 
announced  and  directed,  quite  properly. 

The  votes  were  cast  in  the  Assembly  Hall. 
Each  girl  wrote  the  name  of  her  choice  for  captain 
on  a  slip  of  paper  and  put  it  in  the  box.  Then, 
all  the  girls  who  had  been  on  the  big  team  the 
year  before,  with  the  assistance  of  the  Seniors, 
counted  the  votes. 

The  whole  thing  on  this  particular  evening  was 
gone  through  with  in  deadly  silence,  which  was 
nerve  racking,  particularly  to  Polly.  Not  for 
worlds  would  she  have  confessed  what  it  meant 


Basket  Ball  Election  51 

to  her,  but  ever  since  her  Freshman  year,  she  had 
wanted  to  be  captain.  She  had  condemned  the 
wish  as  foolish,  but  she  had  continued  to  hope. 

After  what  seemed  an  endless  wait,  the  names 
were  sorted  and  counted,  written  on  a  sheet  of 
paper  and  presented  to  Lois.  She  looked  at  it, 
gave  a  shout  of  joy,  jumped  up  from  her  seat, 
and  then,  remembering  the  two  Dorothys'  love 
of  form,  she  said  quietly:  "I  have  the  honor  to 
announce  that  Polly  Pendleton  has  won  the  elec- 
tion by  a  sweeping  majority." 

And  so  it  happened — 

When  the  school  heard  it  a  little  later  every- 
body said: 

"Why,  of  course.  We  knew  it;  no  one  else  had 
a  chance,"  and  hurried  to  Polly  to  congratulate 
her.  She  said:  " Thank  you"  to  them  all,  and 
tried  hard  to  fight  down  the  silly,  but  uncontrolla- 
ble longing  to  cry. 

Lois  slipped  away  the  very  first  chance  she  got 
and  went  down  stairs.  On  her  way  she  met  Betty. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  she  demanded. 

Lois  smiled,  mysteriously. 

"To  send  a  telegram  to  Bob,"  she  answered. 
*  *  He  made  me  promise  I  would. ' ' 

The  next  day  at  luncheon,  Polly  found  a  yellow 
envelope  at  her  place  at  table. 


52    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarc?ing  School 

"What  under  the  sun!'*  she  demanded,  looking 
at  it.  "Who  do  you  suppose  it's  from?" 

"Opening  it  would  be  a  good  way  to  find  out," 
Betty  suggested. 

Polly  tore  open  the  envelope. 

"Why  it's  from  Bob!  Lois,  you  wretch,  lis- 
ten!" 

And  she  read  the  message.  "Lois  wired  me  the 
good  news.  Hearty  congratulations,  and  good 
luck.  Bob." 

"Don't  call  me  a  wretch."  Lois  protested, 
with  a  wicked  grin.  "Bob  made  me  vow  I'd  wire 
him  the  minute  little  Polly  was  elected." 

For  the  rest  of  the  meal  Polly  was  teased  un- 
mercifully. 

After  school  the  three  held  council,  while  she 
took  down  Lois'  Princeton  banner — for  a  week 
was  up — and  triumphantly  put  up  her  own. 

"I  don't  envy  you  your  job,  Polly,"  Betty  be- 
gan, "who  are  you  going  to  choose  for  your 
team?" 

"Isn't  it  a  blessing  the  Dorothys  don't  play?" 
Lois  laughed,  "or  we'd  have  to  have  them." 

"Why  the  main  team  is  easy,"  Polly  said. 
"There's  you  and  Bet,  and  Evelin  and  myself  al- 
ready on  it,  and  all  Seniors ;  that  only  leaves  two 
more  to  choose,  and  they'll  have  to  be  Juniors. 


Basket  Ball  Election  53 

Let's  get  Evelin  and  go  over  to  the  gym  and  see 
what's  doing." 

They  found  sweaters  and  caps,  called  Eve- 
lin, and  started  off.  Angela  met  them  on  the 
way. 

"I'm  going,  too,"  she  insisted;  "even  if  I  can't 
play,  my  advice  is  invaluable." 

When  they  reached  the  gym  a  game  was  under 
way,  and  much  to  their  surprise,  Fanny  Gerard 
was  in  the  thick  of  it. 

"Jemima!  look  at  that!"  Betty  exclaimed,  as 
she  made  a  difficult  basket.  "Now  who'd  have 
thought  it?" 

They  had  not  seen  much  of  Fanny  in  the  last 
month.  They  had  no  idea  she  had  taken  their  rid- 
icule to  heart.  She  had  rebelled  against  it  at  first, 
and  then,  gradually,  other  interests  had  blotted 
out  her  resentment.  Lately  she  had  been  playing 
basket  ball  every  day. 

Evelin  was  the  only  one  of  the  girls  watching 
who  was  not  surprised. 

"She's  the  right  build,"  she  said,  "and  I  know 
she's  been  at  it  all  the  time — but,  of  course,  she 
doesn't  expect  to  make  the  team." 

* '  She  ought  to.  Look  at  that ! ' '  Lois  drew  at- 
tention to  another  play.  "Imagine  any  one  ap- 
parently as  slow  and  dreamy  as  she  is,  playing 


54    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

such  a  rattling  gam«.  Let's  put  her  down  for  a 
sub,  anyway.*' 

Polly,  who  had  not  been  paying  much  attention 
to  the  rest,  said  suddenly : 

"We'll  have  to  put  her  on  the  main  team.  We 
need  two  girls,  and  there's  only  one  other  Junior 
besides  Fanny  who  can  play,  and  that's  Eleanor 
Trent.  She  was  on  the  team  at  the  school  where 
she  went  last  year.  There  she  is,  the  girl  with 
the  auburn  hair.  She's  used  to  boys'  rules,  but 
otherwise  she's  a  good  player." 

"Jemima!  two  new  girls!"  Betty  said  dolefully. 
"Well,  it  can't  be  helped.  Certainly  the  old  ones 
are  a  hopeless  lot." 

"When  do  we  tell  them?"  Evelin  inquired. 
"Let's  do  it  now.  Goodness!  I  remember  how 
thrilled  I  was  when  I  was  put  on  last  year. ' ' 

"Let's  call  them  out  of  the  game;  that'll  make 
them  feel  so  important,"  Lois  suggested. 

So  Polly  asked  permission  from  Miss  Stewart, 
the  gym  teacher,  and  Fanny  and  Eleanor  came 
over  to  them. 

Polly,  as  captain,  told  them  they  had  been 
chosen  for  the  big  team.  Eleanor  had  rather  ex- 
pected it.  She  was  a  good  player,  but  she  was  de- 
lighted and  promised  to  try  and  make  good. 

But  Fanny!    No  words  can  express  her  ex- 


Basket  Ball  Election  55 

cited  raptures.  She  couldn't  believe  her  good 
luck,  and  she  sent  the  girls  into  peals  of  laughter 
by  solemnly  asking  Polly  to  take  her  oath  on  it. 

"I  knew  she'd  be  rare,"  Betty  exclaimed  on 
their  way  back  to  school.  "I  was  sure  she'd 
weep  for  joy." 

I  hope  it's  all  right,"  Lois  said,  doubtfully. 
"I  wish  she  wasn't  quite  so  excitable."  Lois 
played  basket  ball  with  her  head. 

"Oh,  she'll  be  all  right  if  she  doesn't  go  at  it 
too  hard,"  Polly  said,  assuringly.  "Wonder  if 
we  have  any  mail?"  She  stopped  before  the  Sen- 
ior letter  box.  "One  for  you,  Lo,  from  your 
mother,  and  one  for  me.  Let's  go  in  English  room 
and  read  them.  Mine's  from  Bob." 

The  other  girls  found  their  mail,  and  went  up 
to  their  rooms. 

Lois  and  Polly,  left  alone,  opened  their  letters 
and  read  them  through. 

"Mother's  is  awfully  short,"  Lois  said,  before 
Polly  had  finished  hers.  "She  says  she  knows 
something  awfully  nice  that's  going  to  happen 
Thanksgiving,  but  she  has  promised  Bob  not  to 
tell.  What's  yours  about?" 

"Oh,  Lo!  poor  Bobbie  has  sprained  his  ankle 
and  he  can't  run  any  more."  Polly's  voice  trem- 
bled. "I'll  read  you  what  he  says: 


56    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

" Dear  Old  Polly: 

"  Telegraphing  congratulations  is  no  good.  It 
costs  too  much  to  be  eloquent.  Besides,  I've  a  lot 
of  things  I  want  to  say,  but,  first  of  all,  Three 
Cheers  for  you.  Seddon  Hall  is  darn  lucky  to 
have  such  a  corking  little  captain — and  you'll  lead 
them  to  victory  and  have  your  name  on  the  cup. 
Make  them  put  it  on  extra  large." 

"Old  tease,"  Polly  laughed,  and  Lois  said: 
"Just  like  Bob." 

"And  now,  I'm  going  to  talk  about  myself. 
Two  weeks  ago  I  sprained  all  the  ligaments  in  my 
foot,  and — well,  there's  not  much  use  my  trying 
to  be  cheerful  about  it — not  to  you  anyway.  It 
means  I  probably  won't  be  able  to  run  again — and 
so,  good-by  to  my  hopes  of  winning  my  H.  Ee- 
member  the  long  talks  we  used  to  have  about  it? 
I  guess  instead  of  watching  me  cross  the  tape  from 
the  grand  stand,  you'll  sit  beside  me  next  May 
and  listen  to  me  groan  while  some  other  fellow 
runs  in  my  place,  which  reminds  me : 

"I've  planned  a  surprise  for  you  and  Lois  on 
Thanksgiving.  I  don't  like  to  boast,  but  it's 
rather  nice — even  mother  says  so. 

"Drop  me  a  line,  Miss  Basket  Ball  Captain,  and 
tell  me  you'll  accept.  Yours, 

"Bob." 


Basket  Ball  Election  57 

"How  exciting!  What  do  you  suppose  it  is?" 
Lois  demanded,  as  she  followed  Polly  upstairs. 
"It's  a  shame  about  Bobbie's  foot.  Vacation  be- 
gins next  week.  Isn't  it  thrilling!  I  do  hope  he 
has  sense  enough  to  bring  home  some  one  nice — 
but  I  suppose  it  will  be  his  roommate,  Jim  Thorpe, 
as  usual,  and  I  don't  like  him  much."  They  had 
reached  their  room  by  now. 

"I'll  bet  the  surprise  is  a  football  game,  don't 
you?"  Lois  persisted. 

"Oh,  keep  still,  Lo!"  Polly  said,  crossly,  and 
leave  me  alone." 

Lo  glanced  up  in  surprise,  and  suddenly  decided 
to  look  for  Betty.  She  left  Polly  standing  before 
the  Crimson  banner,  blinking  hard. 


CHAPTER  V 

THANKSGIVING 

THANKSGIVING  vacation  started  with  the  confu- 
sion and  excitement  always  necessary  when  a 
school  breaks  up  even  for  so  short  a  time. 

Polly  and  Lois  could  hardly  wait  until  the  Sed- 
don  Hall  special  pulled  into  the  Grand  Central 
station  on  Wednesday  morning.  The  vacation  be- 
gan on  Wednesday  and  the  girls  were  expected 
to  be  back  Sunday  evening. 

They  were  the  first  to  jump  to  the  platform  as 
the  train  stopped. 

Mrs.  Farwell  was  waiting  for  them. 

" Darling  children!"  She  hugged  and  kissed 
them  both.  ' '  How  well  you  look ! ' ' 

* '  Well  ?  Why  we  're  robust,  Aunt  Kate, ' '  Polly 
laughed,  "and  bursting  with  excitement." 

"What's  the  surprise,  Mother?  Please  tell 
us,"  Lois  begged. 

Mrs.  Farwell  only  shook  her  head  mysteriously. 
"Not  a  word  until  after  luncheon.  We  must  shop 
this  morning."  She  looked  at  the  girls  despair- 
ingly. "How  do  you  manage  to  wear  out  your 

II 


Thanksgiving  59 

clothes  so?  You  both  need  everything  n«w,  par- 
ticularly hats;  the  ones  you  have  on  are  sights." 

Uncle  Roddy's  car  was  waiting  for  them,  and 
they  got  in  it  and  were  whirled  away  to  the  shops. 

It  was  not  until  luncheon  that  they  had  a  chance 
to  breathe. 

"There,  that's  settled.'7  Mrs.  Farwell  viewed 
them  with  satisfaction.  She  was  proud  of  them 
both.  Lois'  delicate  handsomeness  and  Polly's 
clear  cut  beauty.  She  had  chosen  dark  blue  for  the 
one  and  hunter's  green  for  the  other. 

"Won't  you  girls  ever  take  an  interest  in  your 
clothes?"  she  asked,  wonderingly.  She  couldn't 
believe  they  were  quite  as  indifferent  to  the  charm- 
ing pictures  they  made  in  the  very  becoming  hats 
and  sporty  topcoats  as  they  pretended. 

"Poor,  darling  mother,  we  are  interested,"  Lois 
protested,  "but  we're — " 

"Fussed."  Polly  finished  for  her,  looking  de- 
cidedly self-conscious,  as  she  tilted  her  hat  a  tiny 
bit  more  over  one  ear. 

Uncle  Eoddy  and  Dr.  Farwell  met  them  for 
luncheon,  and  then  they  heard  the  plan. 

"It's  Bob's  idea,"  Uncle  Eoddy  explained, 
"and  here's  the  schedule.  You,"  he  was  looking 
at  Polly  and  Lois,  "and  Mrs.  Farwell  leave  for 
Boston  this  afternoon.  Bob  will  meet  you  and 


60    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

take  you  to  dinner,  and  to-morrow  you'll  go  to 
the  game.  Harvard  plays  Princeton. '  * 

" That's  hard  on  you,  Lois,"  Dr.  Farwell 
laughed ;  he  never  stopped  teasing  for  one  minute. 

"What  do  you  think  about  it,  Tiddledewinks ! " 
Uncle  Roddy  asked. 

"It's  a  perfect  plan,"  Polly  said,  enthusiastic- 
ally. "I'm  crazy  to  see  Bob.  Isn't  it  a  shame 
about  his  foot?" 

The  doctor  looked  grave. 

"Yes,  it's  too  bad;  he  was  laid  up  for  quite  a 
while.  Of  course,  it's  all  right  now,  but  he  lost 
time,  and  he's  had  to  make  up  a  lot  of  work." 

"Oh,  of  course."  Polly  suddenly  realized  that 
Bob's  father  was  not  looking  at  it  from  quite  the 
same  angle  that  she  was. 

After  luncheon  they  hurried  to  the  hotel  where 
the  Farwells  were  staying,  repacked  their  bags 
and  were  back  at  the  Grand  Central  in  time  for 
their  train. 

Lois  and  Polly  talked  and  planned  ahead  all  the 
way  to  Boston.  They  thoroughly  enjoyed  the 
coming  fun  in  anticipation;  but,  of  course,  they 
never  guessed  for  a  second  that  the  real  surprise 
was  still  ahead. 

"There's  Bob,"  Polly  exclaimed,  as  they  fol- 
lowed the  porter  through  the  gates.  "I  can  see 


Thanksgiving  61 

him;  he's  way  at  the  end  of  that  line  of  people, 
and  Lois,  look  who 's  with  him ! ' ' 

Lois  looked.  A  tall,  heavily  set  fellow,  with  a 
very  broad  pair  of  shoulders,  was  waving  his  hat. 

"Frank  Preston!  Why  how  do  you  suppose 
— "  But  the  rest  of  the  sentence  was  cut  short 
by  the  meeting. 

" Hello,  Mother!'*  Bob  began,  "how  are  you?" 
He  turned  to  the  girls.  "Here's  a  friend  of 
yours,  Lo."  Then  he  squeezed  Polly's  hand  till 
it  hurt. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Farwellf"  Frank  shook 
hands  hurriedly  and  turned  to  Lois. 

"Isn't  this  bully  luck?  Gee,  I'm  glad  to  see 
you ! "  he  said,  eagerly. 

Bob  looked  in  admiration.  He  wished  he  had 
Frank's  courage.  Why  he  couldn't  even  kiss  his 
mother  and  Lois  in  public,  without  blushing,  and 
as  for  Polly,  well,  he  would  have  to  wait  until  they 
were  alone  before  he  could  tell  her  how  glad  he 
was  to  see  her.  But  he  comforted  himself  with 
the  thought  that  he'd  be  more  artistic  about  it 
when  the  time  came  than  Frank  had  been. 

They  found  their  hotel,  the  same  one  they  had 
stayed  at  on  their  first  memorable  trip  to  Boston, 
and  Mrs.  Farwell,  tired  out  from  her  strenuous 
afternoon,  ordered  tea  at  once. 


62    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

Lois  and  Frank  sat  down  on  a  sofa  at  one  end 
of  the  room,  and  Frank  explained  how  Bob  had 
wired  him  to  meet  him. 

"Of  course,  I  came,"  he  said. 

"You  are  not  in  the  game  to-morrow!"  Mrs. 
Farwell  asked  from  behind  the  tea  urn. 

"No,  worse  luck,"  Frank  told  her.  "I'm  only 
a  sub;  of  course,  there's  a  chance;  I  may  be 
needed. ' ' 

"But  if  you're  a  sub,  how  did  you  manage  to 
get  here?"  Polly  inquired. 

"Oh,  I  managed  that  all  right.  I  won't  break 
training,  though  I'm  tempted  to."  He  eyed  the 
tea  cakes  longingly,  "and  I'll  be  on  hand  to-mor- 
row. So  that's  all  right.  It's  awfully  jolly  of 
you  people  to  ask  me,"  he  smiled,  engagingly,  at 
Mrs.  Farwell. 

"Why,  we're  delighted  to  have  you,  Frank," 
she  assured  him. 

Bob,  who  had  been  looking  out  of  the  window 
all  this  time,  turned  abruptly. 

"Mother,  Polly  doesn't  want  any  tea,  and 
there's  loads  of  time  for  a  walk;  do  you  mind?"  he 
asked. 

His  mother  laughed.  '  *  Not  if  Polly  doesn  't,  but 
I  should  think  she'd  be  tired." 

But  Polly  was  not  tired.    She  insisted  that  she 


Thanksgiving  63 

wanted  some  exercise  after  the  trip  on  the  cars. 
So  Bob  took  her  out. 

The  sun  was  just  getting  ready  to  set,  and  they 
walked  towards  the  river. 

"Polly!"  Bob  said,  after  they  had  walked  a 
block  in  silence. 

"Yes—  " 

"I  think  this  is  pretty  much  0.  K.,  don't  you?" 

"What,  this  street!"  Polly  was  very  happy 
and  she  felt  like  teasing. 

Bob  tightened  his  grip  on  her  arm,  started  to 
protest,  and  then  changed  his  mind. 

"Yes,  of  course,  this  street;  I  think  it's  a  lovely 
street — in  fact  it's  a  great  favorite  of  mine,"  he 
said  instead. 

Then  Polly  was  sorry.  After  a  while  she  said, 
softly: 

"What  did  you  really  mean,  Bobby?" 

"Why,  the  street." 

"Oh,  very  well,  if  you  don't  want  to  tell  me." 

"Ha,  ha !  but  I  do ;  I  think  it's  great  having  you 
here  for  the  game,  and  mother  and  Lois.  Wasn  't  I 
clever  to  get  Frank  to  amuse  Lo  to-night?  We're 
going  to  the  theater,  you  know,  something  musical. 
I  wish  he  could  stay  longer,  but,  of  course,  he 
can't;  he'll  have  to  return  with  the  defeated 
team." 


64    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Will  they  surely  be  defeated?"  Polly  asked, 
seriously.  "Bob,  I  think  I'll  just  die  if  Harvard 
doesn't  win." 

"Don't  worry,  we  will,"  he  assured  her  with 
perfect  confidence.  Then  followed  another  pause. 
They  had  reached  the  river,  and  Polly  stopped. 

"Bob!" 

"What  is  it?" 

"I'm  awfully  sorry  about  your  foot;  I  can't  tell 
you  how  sorry,  because  words  are  so  stupid;  the 
right  ones  never  come  when  you  really  want  to 
say  something.  But  I  feel  about  it,  oh,  awfully ! 
Isn't  there  even  a  chance?" 

"Yes,  a  little  one,"  Bob  said;  "but  not  enough 
to  matter.  I  can't  start  training,  and  I'll  be  too 
stiff  to  do  any  good  by  Spring. 

"Tough  luck!"  Polly  laid  her  hand  uncon- 
sciously on  his  arm.  "Don't  give  up,  though. 
You  may  make  good  if  you  work  awfully  hard. 
May's  ages  off." 

"Gee!"  Bob  delivered  this  inelegant  exclama- 
tion with  feeling.  "Poll,  you're  the  best  little 
sport  I  ever  knew.  You  always  understand. 
Any  other  girl  would  have  said  that  running  was 
bad  for  my  heart,  and  expected  me  to  be  con- 
soled." 

Polly  was  overcome  by  such  frank  praise.    She 


Thanksgiving  65 

tried  to  think  of  something  to  iay,  and  finally  de- 
cided on : 

' '  Oh,  rot !    Isn  't  it  time  to  go  back  ? ' ' 

The  theater  that  night  was  very  amusing.  Lois 
and  Frank  were  in  gales  of  laughter  every  minute. 

"If  you  laugh  any  more,"  Lois  said,  between 
the  acts,  "you'll  never  be  able  to  play  to-morrow." 

"But  I  won't  have  to  play,"  Frank  protested, 
"unless  an  awful  lot  of  awful  things  happen. 
Anyway,  don't  let's  talk  about  it,  honestly,  Lois." 
He  lowered  his  voice,  "I  get  cold  all  over  when  I 
think  of  it.  I'm  almost  sure  I'd  lose  my  nerve  if 
I  had  to  go  in." 

"You  never  would,"  Lois  admonished,  crisply. 
"You'd  find  it,  any  amount  of  it,  the  minute  you 
heard  the  signals.  I  hope — oh,  how  I  hope  you 
have  to  play. ' ' 

"Well,  if  I  do,"  Frank  grumbled,  "it  won't  do 
me  any  good  to  remember  you  're  on  the  Harvard 
side." 

"Now,  you're  silly,"  Lois  teased.  "What  dif- 
ference does  it  make  where  I  sit,  so  long  as  I  root 
for  Princeton?" 

"Do  you  mean  that?"  Frank  demanded.  "Do 
you  honestly  want  us  to  win?  Gee,  that's  great! 
I  sort  of  thought,  because  of  Bob — " 

"Oh,  Bob!    Well,  you  see  there's  Polly,"  Lois 


66    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

said,  demurely,  just  as  the  curtain  rose  for  the 
last  act. 

Thanksgiving  morning  was  all  glorious  sun- 
shine. There  was  not  a  single  cloud  in  the  sky, 
and  the  air  was  just  the  right  football  tempera- 
ture. 

"Everything  0.  K.,  so  far,"  Bob  said,  joyfully, 
as  he  joined  his  mother  and  the  girls  at  break- 
fast. ' '  What  '11  we  do  this  morning  to  kill  time  ? ' ' 

"Lois  wants  to  go  to  the  Library  and  see  the 
Abbey  pictures,"  Mrs.  Farwell  answered. 

Bob  looked  his  disgust — he  appealed  to  Polly — 
but  for  the  first  time  she  deserted  him. 

"I'm  going  too,  Bobby.  I  guess  you'll  have  to 
find  something  to  do  until  luncheon,"  she  said. 

Mrs.  Farwell  and  the  girls  wandered  about  the 
Library  all  morning,  and  returned  to  the  hotel  ten 
minutes  later  than  the  time  set  by  Bob  for  lunch- 
eon. 

He  and  his  roommate,  Jimmy  Thorpe,  were 
waiting  for  them  in  the  lobby. 

"I  knew  you'd  be  late,"  Bob  greeted  them. 
"We'll  have  to  dash  through  lunch.  Did  you  en- 
joy the  pictures?"  he  asked,  sarcastically. 

"Darling  Bobby,  are  we  late?  We're  so  sorry. 
How  do  you  do,  Jimmy?  It's  awfully  nice  you 
can  be  with  us."  Mrs.  Farwell  was  so  contrite 


Thanksgiving  67 

and  charming  that  Bobbie's  momentary  huff  dis- 
appeared as  it  always  did  before  his  mother's 
smile. 

"Well,  we  didn't  have  to  hurry  so  very  much," 
she  said,  when  luncheon  was  over  and  they  were 
preparing  to  start.  "Now  are  you  sure  we  are 
going  to  be  warm  enough  1 ' ' 

Bob  and  Jim  looked  at  each  other,  over  the 
sweaters  and  steamer  rugs  they  were  loaded  down 
with,  and  winked. 

1 '  Here 's  the  taxi, ' '  Jim  announced.  ' '  Come  on, 
Lois." 

After  a  considerable  time  lost  in  stopping  and 
threading  their  way  among  the  other  hundreds 
of  cars,  they  reached  the  Harvard  Stadium  at 
last. 

"Bob,  how  wonderful  and  how  huge  it  looks  to- 
day," Polly  exclaimed,  as  they  entered  their  sec- 
tion, and  she  caught  sight  of  the  immense  bowl, 
and  the  hundreds  of  people. 

They  had  splendid  seats,  near  enough  to  really 
see  and  recognize  the  players.  Jim  and  Bob  ex- 
plained the  score  card,  talked  familiarly  about  all 
the  players  and  pointed  out  the  other  under  gradu- 
ates who  had  won  importance  in  other  sports. 

"Oh,  but  I  wish  I  were  a  boy,"  Polly  said,  long- 
ingly. "Imagine  the  thrill  of  being  part  of  all 


68    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

this.    Why  it  makes  school  look  pale  and  insig- 
nificant in  comparison. ' ' 

"I  don't  wish  I  were  a  boy,"  Lois  said  decid- 
edly. "I'd  much  rather  he  a  girl,  hut,  I'll  admit, 
football  does  make  basket  ball  look  rather  silly." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!"  Jim  said,  condescendingly. 
"Basket  ball's  a  good  girls'  game." 

Polly  was  indignant. 

"Jim,  what  a  silly  thing  to  say.  You  know  per- 
fectly well  that  just  as  many  boys  play  it  as  girls. 
The  only  difference  is  that  when  we  play  we  have 
to  use  our  minds — while  boys — " 

"Yes,  we  know,  Poll,"  Bob  interrupted,  "boys 
have  no  minds ;  therefore  their  rules  must  be  less 
rigid.  But  don't  be  too  hard  on  us." 

"I  judge  Polly  plays  basket  ball."  It  seemed 
to  be  Jim's  day  for  blunders. 

"Plays  basket  ball — oh,  ye  Gods!  Bob  wrung 
his  hands.  Why,  Jim,  surely  I  told  you  that  she 
was  no  less  than  captain  of  her  team.  Personal- 
ly, I  think  she  deserves  the  title  of  general." 

Polly  laughed  in  spite  of  herself. 

"Bob,  you're  a  mean  tease.  But  just  wait. 
I'll  ask  you  both  up  for  field  day,  and — " 

"Sh — !  here  they  come,"  Bob  warned  as  a  pro- 
longed cheer  announced  the  arrival  of  the  teams. 

The  game  was  on. 


Thanksgiving  69 

Everybody  stood  up  and  shouted.  And  then  a 
tense  silence  followed,  as  the  first  kick-off  sent  the 
pigskin  hurtling  into  the  air. 

Any  one  who  has  seen  a  football  game  knows 
how  perfectly  silly  it  is  to  attempt  a  description 
of  it.  Polly  and  Lois  could  both  tell  you  all  the 
rules  and  explain  the  most  intricate  maneuvers, 
if  you  gave  them  plenty  of  time  to  think  it  out; 
but  with  the  actual  plays  before  them,  they  were 
carried  away  by  excitement  and  gave  themselves 
up  completely  to  feeling  the  game,  rather  than 
understanding  it.  They  watched  the  massed  for- 
mation with  breathless  anxiety,  thrilled  at  every 
sudden  spurt  ahead  which  meant  a  gain;  groaned 
when  the  advance  was  stopped  by  one  of  those 
terrifying  tackles,  and  experienced  the  exultant 
joy  only  possible  when  the  pigskin  sails  unchecked 
between  the  goal  posts. 

Between  periods  they  had  to  appeal  to  Jim  and 
Bob  for  the  score.  At  one  point  in  the  game,  Bob 
turned  hurriedly  to  Lois. 

"Watch  out  for  Frank,"  he  said,  excitedly; 
"He'll  be  on  in  a  minute." 

"How  do  you  know1?"  Lois  demanded.  "Oh, 
Bobby,  I  wish  they  wouldn't;  he,  he — said  he'd 
lose  his  nerve."  Lois  had  suddenly  lost  hers. 

"You  watch  that  man,"  Bob  pointed,  "they'll 


,70    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

take  him  out,  see  if  they  don't ;  he's  all  in.  Frank 
will  play  next  period." 

He  was  right.  When  the  whistle  blew,  Frank, 
after  a  few  hurried  words  with  the  coach,  tore  off 
his  sweater  and  ran  out  to  the  field. 

Lois'  eyes  were  glued  to  him  whenever  he  was 
in  sight,  and  during  one  tackle  when  he  was  com- 
pletely lost  under  the  mass  of  swaying  arms  and 
legs,  she  forgot  her  surroundings  and  the  fact, 
most  important  in  Bob's  and  Jim's  eyes,  that  she 
was  on  the  Harvard  side — by  shouting  lustily. 

' '  Stop  it,  stop  it !    Get  off,  you  '11  smother  him ! ' ' 

Mrs.  Farwell  quieted  her. 

"Lois,  you  mustn't,  dear  child,"  she  laughed. 
"They  can't  hear  you,  you  know.  Do  sit  down 
and  don't  look  if  it  frightens  you." 

By  this  time  Frank  was  up  and  doing  wonders. 
Lois  gave  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"Football's  a  savage  game,"  she  said,  indig- 
nantly. And  Mrs.  Farwell  agreed  with  her.  She 
had  been  thankful  beyond  words  that  Bob  had  not 
gone  out  for  the  team — running  was  sufficiently 
dangerous.  It  was  to  her  lasting  credit  that  she 
had  thought  of  Bob's  feelings  first,  instead  of  her 
own,  when  news  came  of  his  hurt  foot. 

Putting  Frank  in  the  game  made  a  decided  dif- 
ference. The  Orange  and  Black  began  to  gain. 


Thanksgiving  71 

They  fought  and  contested  every  inch,  but  the 
Crimson  triumphed. 

Polly's  eyes  reflected  the  light  of  victory  as  the 
last  longed  for  whistle  blew.  She  shouted  and 
went  quite  mad  with  all  the  rest. 

"What  a  game!  Oh,  Bob,  what  a  game!'*  she 
cried  as  they  started  for  their  exit.  "I'll  never 
be  able  to  thank  you  enough  for  taking  me.  I'm 
nearly  dead  from  excitement,  though." 

Bob,  in  his  exuberance,  slapped  her  on  the  back. 

"Good  for  you,  Polly;  you  ought  to  have  been 
a  boy,  shouldn't  she,  Jim?"  he  demanded. 

"Why,  I  can't  see  that  there's  any  room  for 
improvement,  if  you  ask  me,"  Jim  said  gallantly. 
And  Bob  gnashed  his  teeth. 

They  all  had  dinner  at  the  hotel  that  night,  and 
went  to  the  theater  again,  but  it  is  a  question 
whether  any  of  them  could  tell  you  what  they  saw, 
for  the  music  acted  only  as  a  sort  of  fitting  back- 
ground as  they  went  over  and  over  again,  each 
play  of  the  wonderful  game. 

That  is,  Polly  and  Bob  and  Jim.  Lois  had  only 
one  comment  to  make: 

"Princeton  lost,"  she  granted  them,  "but  it 
was  only  because  they  hadn't  the  sense  to  put 
Frank  in  sooner."  And  Bob  admitted  there 
might  be  a  degree  of  truth  in  what  she  said. 


CHAPTEE  VI 

MAUD 

THE  rest  of  Thanksgiving  vacation  was  so  pale 
in  comparison  with  the  game  that  it  is  not  worth 
recounting.  Only  one  thing  of  lasting  importance 
occurred. 

Sunday  morning,  while  Lois  and  Polly  were 
still  in  bed — Lois  was  staying  with  Polly  at  Uncle 
Roddy's  apartment  on  Eiverside  Drive — the  bell 
rang.  Mrs.  Bent  the  housekeeper  opened  the 
door  and  Mrs.  Farwell  walked  in. 

"Good  morning,"  she  said  hurriedly — and 
catching  sight  of  Mr.  Pendleton  in  the  library — 
added,  "I  know  I'm  much  too  early  for  dinner, 
Roddy — the  doctor  said  you  wouldn't  be  up,  but 
I  have  such  exciting  news  for  the  girls.  Where 
are  they?" 

"  Still  in  bed.  I  think  they're  having  break- 
fast. You  might  go  see.  Tell  me  about  the  ex- 
citement first,"  Uncle  Roddy  answered,  as  he 
helped  her  with  her  coat. 

"I  found  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Banks,  when  I  got 

home  from  the  theater  last  night,"  Mrs.  Farwell 

72 


Maud  73 

explained.  "It  had  been  forwarded  from  Albany. 
They  are  back  from  Canada." 

1 '  The  Banks,  eh !  How  is  Maud  f ' '  Uncle  Eoddy 
inquired  with  sudden  interest. 

'  *  Very  well,  and  Mrs.  Banks  wants  to  send  her 
— but  I  must  tell  the  girls,"  she  interrupted  her- 
self, and  hurried  down  the  hall. 

The  Banks  need  a  word  of  explanation  to  those 
who  have  not  read  the  story  of  the  first  summer 
that  Polly  and  Lois  spent  in  the  former's  old  home 
in  New  England,  where  they  lived  in  Polly's  own 
house  left  to  her  by  her  Aunt  Hannah  Pendleton. 
It  was  a  big,  rambling  place  and  quite  a  distance 
from  the  village.  The  only  other  house  on  the  hill 
was  the  mysterious  Kent  place — said  by  the  na- 
tives for  miles  around — to  be  haunted. 

It  was  with  the  greatest  surprise  that  Polly,  on 
her  arrival,  learned  that  this  summer  it  was 
tenanted  by  a  Mrs.  Banks  and  her  daughter, 
Maud.  But  instead  of  the  occupants  completely 
dispelling  the  mystery  of  the  house,  the  Banks 
added  to  it. 

It  was  soon  evident,  that  there  was  something 
queer  about  them.  Maud  was  very  shy,  and  more 
like  a  frightened,  wild  animal,  than  a  healthy, 
normal  child.  It  was  Dr.  Farwell,  who,  towards 
the  end  of  the  summer,  discovered  that  she  was 


74    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

suffering  from  a  severe  nervous  shock,  caused 
by  the  tragic  death  of  her  father  in  India. 

He  had  sent  her  away  for  treatment  and  when 
she  returned,  Polly  and  Lois  had  tried  to  complete 
the  cure.  Polly  had  almost  succeeded  in  persuad- 
ing her  to  return  with  them  to  Seddon  Hall,  but 
Maud's  timidity  had  barred  the  way.  She  could 
not  make  up  her  mind  to  face  the  one  hundred 
girls. 

Mrs.  Banks  had  taken  her  daughter  to  Canada 
to  visit  friends  that  winter,  and  apart  from  an 
occasional  postal,  Polly  and  Lois  had  heard  no 
further  news  of  them. 

Mrs.  Farwell's  letter  was  a  great  surprise. 
When  she  entered  the  girl's  room  they  both  sat  up. 
They  had  finished  breakfast  and  were  just  being 
happily  lazy. 

"Jemima!  What  time  is  it?"  Lois  demanded, 
at  sight  of  her  mother.  "Are  you  and  Daddy 
here  for  dinner  already?" 

Mrs.  Farwell  laughed.  ' '  No,  you  lazy  bones,  it 's 
not  quite  as  late  as  that.  I  came  before  Daddy, 
because  I  have  news  for  you — such  news ! ' ' 

"Tell  us,"  Polly  demanded,  quite  thoroughly 
awake.  "News  of  what?" 

Mrs.  Farwell  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  bed 
and  began: 


Maud  75 

"I've  had  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Banks,  she  and 
Maud  are  in  New  York  and — " 

But  the  girls  interrupted  her  with  a  flood  of 
questions. 

"Mrs.  Banks  in  New  York!  How's  Maud? 
Did  she  say  where  she  was  going  to  school !*' 

"Is  she  still  so  awfully  nervous?" 

"I  wonder  what  she's  lik«  now." 

"Do  listen,"  Mrs.  Farwell  begged,  "and  I'll 
tell  you.  Mrs.  Banks  wrote  that  she  was  consid- 
ering sending  Maud  to  Seddon  Hall.  She  is  fif- 
teen now,  you  know,  and  apparently,  from  what 
her  mother  writes — eager  to  go." 

Polly  said:  "Well,  I  never!  It's  taken  her 
two  years  to  make  up  her  mind." 

Lois  groaned,  and  fell  back  on  her  pillows.  Yoti 
will  remember,  she  was  never  as  interested  in 
Maud,  as  Polly  was. 

"Another  younger  girl  to  look  after,"  she  said 
dolefully.  "I  wonder  if  there'll  be  room  for  her. 
When  are  you  going  to  answer  Mrs.  Banks '  letter, 
mother?" 

Mrs.  Farwell  thought  for  a  minute. 

"Why  I  think  I'll  'phone  her.  You  see  the 
letter  was  sent  to  Albany,  so  it  was  delayed  in 
reaching  me.  I  have  their  address  here." 

"Look!"    Polly  bounded  out  of  bed.    "Call 


76    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

her  up  now  Aunt  Kate,  and  ask  her  to  bring  Maud 
to  tea  this  afternoon.  Then  we  can  talk  about 
school  and  see  Maud.  Get  up,  Lo,  and  do  show  a 
little  interested  enthusiasm,"  she  admonished,  as 
Mrs.  Farwell  went  back  to  the  library  to  tell  Uncle 
Eoddy  the  rest  of  the  story,  and  to  'phone  to  Mrs. 
Banks.  "Aren't  you  excited!" 

"No!"  Lois  got  up  slowly  and  struggled  to 
find  her  slipper.  "I  am  not,"  she  said  slowly  but 
distinctly. 

Mrs.  Banks  was  delighted  to  accept  Mrs.  Far- 
well's  invitation,  and  at  four  o'clock  they  arrived, 
she  and  Maud. 

The  girls  could  hardly  restrain  a  gasp  of  sur- 
prise at  the  sight  of  Maud.  It  is  hard  to  realize 
that  other  girls  grow  up  as  well  as  yourself,  and 
Polly  and  Lois  still  remembered  the  shy  little 
girl  in  a  pinafore,  with  straight  flaxen  hair  and 
blue  eyes  that  Maud  had  been  two  summers  before. 
They  were  totally  unprepared  to  meet  the  new 
Maud. 

In  the  first  place,  instead  of  looking  down  at  her 
they  had  to  look  up,  for  she  had  grown  until  she 
was  a  half  head  taller  than  either  Polly  or  Lois. 
Her  arms  and  legs  were  lanky  and  her  hair  was 
now  brushed  severely  back  from  her  forehead  and 
hung  in  a  heavy  braid  down  her  back.  She  wore 


Maud  77 

a  very  plain  black  velvet  dress  with  a  broad  white 
collar  and  cuffs,  and  with  her  clear  blue  eyes  and 
straight  features  she  made  a  strikingly  handsome 
picture,  and  although  she  spoke  in  her  same  soft 
melodious  voice — all  trace  of  shyness  was  gone. 
After  the  greetings  were  over,  and  everybody  was 
comfortably  settled,  the  talk  turned  to  school. 

"Where  have  you  been  the  past  two  years?'* 
Polly  asked.  "I'm  so  tickled  to  think  you've 
really  decided  to  go  to  Seddon  Hall  at  last." 

"I've  had  governesses,  most  of  the  time,"  Maud 
answered. 

"But  you  went  to  a  small  private  school  too, 
dear,"  Mrs.  Banks  reminded  her. 

Maud  glanced  at  her  mother  and  then  back  to 
Polly. 

"Not  for  long,  though;  you  see  I  was  expelled," 
she  said,  with  such  unexpected  bluntness,  that  they 
all  laughed. 

"Expelled!  What  for?"  Lois  asked,  without 
intending  to  be  rude. 

"For  drawing  a  picture  of  the  music  professor. 
It  wasn't  a  very  flattering  picture,  so!" 

"You  weren't  really  expelled,  dear,"  Mrs.  Banks 
said  apologetically.  "The  Principal  just  thought 
you  might  be  happier  somewhere  else.  You  didn't 
fit  in;  you  see  it  was  a  very  small  school,  and — " 


78    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"All  the  girls  were  little  gentlewomen,"  Maud 
interrupted,  without  appearing  rude,  "and  I  was 
too  noisy."  She  chuckled  to  herself — probably 
at  the  memory  of  past  pranks.  "I  didn't  mean 
to  be,  but  the  Principal — "  She  stopped  abruptly. 
She  was  a  little  embarrassed  at  so  much  undivided 
attention — for  though  she  was  noisy,  and  rather 
unmanageable,  she  had  no  desire  to  show  off.  For 
the  rest  of  the  visit,  the  older  people  did  the  talk- 
ing. 

An  hour  later,  as  the  girls  were  packing  their 
bags,  in  Polly's  room — they  discussed  Maud.  It 
was  decided  that  she  was  to  go  to  Seddon  Hall  as 
soon  as  Mrs.  Banks  could  arrange  with  Mrs. 
Baird,  and  the  girls  were  wondering  just  what 
difference  her  coming  would  make. 

"She'll  be  some  one  anyway,"  Polly  said 
thoughtfully,  "Whether  she's  popular  or  not, 
she's  sure  to  make  herself  felt." 

"I  think  she'll  make  a  hit,"  Lois  replied,  slowly. 
"She's  awfully  different.  I  wonder  if  she'll  start 
drawing  pictures  of  the  faculty." 

"It  doesn't  matter  if  she  does,  no  one  will  pay 
any  attention  to  it,"  Polly  said,  with  a  grin. 
"Maybe  she'll  put  some  ginger  into  things." 

"Bet  will  be  pleased  if  she  does,"  Lois  laughed, 


Maud  79 

as  she  packed  her  football  score  card.  The  sight 
of  it  made  her  exclaim: 

"Poll,  I  meant  to  write  Frank  to-day!  I 
haven't  congratulated  him  yet.  We've  been  so 
busy."  She  hurried  to  the  desk.  "I'll  have  time 
to  tear  off  just  a  line  before  we  start." 

Polly  was  suddenly  reminded  of  an  unanswered 
letter  at  the  same  time.  In  a  second  their  pens 
scratched  in  unison,  and  Maud  was  completely 
forgotten. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A   SENIOR   DISPUTE 

THE  last  bell  was  three  minutes  late  in  ringing. 
Betty  knew  it  was,  because  she  had  watched  the 
clock  tick  out  each  one  with  growing  impatience. 
When  it  did  ring  at  last,  she  threw  her  latin 
book  into  her  desk,  banged  down  the  lid,  and  gave 
vent  to  her  favorite  exclamation. 

"Jemima!  Thank  goodness  that's  over."  She 
went  to  the  window  and  looked  out. 

A  heavy  snow  had  been  falling  all  morning,  and 
the  grounds  of  Seddon  Hall,  were  sufficiently  cov- 
ered to  assure  good  coasting. 

Polly  finished  the  last  couple  of  sentences  of 
her  latin  prose  with  little  or  no  regard  to  the  con- 
text and  joined  Betty. 

" Looks  bully,  doesn't  it?"  she  asked.  "I  hope 
it  stays  long  enough  to  pack." 

"It's  wonderful,"  Betty  agreed,  "but  don't  let's 
stand  and  look  at  it  any  longer.  Come  on  out, 
quick. ' ' 

"Coming,  Lo?"  Polly  inquired,  stopping  be- 
side Lois'  desk. 

80 


A  Senior  Dispute  81 

"No,  not  just  yet.  I've  got  to  speak  to  Miss 
Crosby,  over  in  the  studio.  Don't  wait  for  me. 
I'll  come  as  soon  as  I  can,"  she  promised.  As 
she  saw  Polly's  look  of  disapproval,  adding  by 
way  of  apology, ' '  I  simply  must  finish  that  sketch, 
Poll.  It  won't  take  long." 

So  Polly  and  Betty  left  her  and  went  out  to- 
gether. They  found  their  sleds  from  the  year  be- 
fore, in  the  gym  cellar,  and  pulled  them  to  the  top 
of  the  hill. 

The  snow  had  drifted  into  the  road,  and  was  so 
deep  that  the  coasting  was  slow  at  first. 

11  Let's  wait  awhile,"  Betty  suggested,  "until 
the  other  girls  have  packed  it  down  a  little ;  this  is 
no  fun." 

1  'All  right,  let 's  take  a  walk.  I  wish  I  knew  how 
to  snowshoe,"  Polly  said  as  she  sank  to  her  knees 
in  a  drift. 

"When's  that  friend  of  yours  coming?"  Betty 
inquired,  as  they  started  off  towards  the  pond. 

"Who,  Maud?  I  don't  know,  sometime  soon. 
We've  got  to  be  good  to  her,  Bet.  She's  really  all 
right  in  some  ways." 

"I  remember  her  only  that  first  summer,"  Betty 
said  thoughtfully.  "She  didn't  make  much  of  an 
impression  then." 

"Did  you  ever  see  her  ride?"  Polly  demanded. 


82     Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"We  used  to  go  out  in  the  back  pasture  and  try 
and  tame  a  couple  of  colts  we  had.  Maud  was  a 
wonder.  Perhaps  Mrs.  Baird  knows  when  she's 
coming. ' ' 

''Let's  go  ask  her."  Betty  turned  back  toward 
the  school.  "My  feet  are  soaked  anyway." 

Mra.  Baird  was  standing  on  the  Senior  porch 
when  they  came  up  the  drive.  She  called  to  them. 

"Did  Jane  find  you?"  she  asked,  as  they 
reached  the  steps.  "I  sent  her  to  look  for  you." 

Polly  laughed.  "Why  no,  she  said  surprised. 
"We  were  just  coming  to  find  you." 

' '  What  about ! ' '  Mrs.  Baird  put  an  arm  around 
each  girl.  "Come  inside,  first,"  she  said,  shiver- 
ing, for  she  was  without  hat  or  coat. 

"Perhaps  it  was  about  the  same  thing,"  Betty 
said.  They  followed  her  into  the  office  and  Polly 
asked : 

"Have  you  heard  anything  from  Mrs.  Banks? 
We're  wondering  when  Maud  is  coming." 

"To-morrow,  and  I  meant  to  tell  you  and  Lois, 
but  it  slipped  my  mind,"  Mrs.  Baird  told  her. 

"Then  you  wanted  us  for  something  else?" 
Betty  asked. 

Mrs.  Baird  walked  over  and  looked  out  of  the 
window. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  hesitating.    "I  am  worried 


A  Senior  Dispute  83 

about  the  coasting  this  year.  We  have  so  many 
new  girls  and  I  don't  want  any  accidents.  Of 
course  I  couldn't  forbid  them  to  coast,  so  I  thought 
up  a  scheme.  You  two  girls  have  been  here  for  a 
long  time  and  know  all  about  the  hill.  By  the  way, 
where 's  Lois?"  she  asked  abruptly. 

"Up  in  the  studio,"  Polly  said  with  a  shrug  of 
her  shoulders,  which  meant  to  convey  the  idea 
that  Lois  had  taken  up  her  permanent  abode  there. 

Mrs.  Baird  frowned.  "She  must  not  work  so 
hard,"  she  said,  finally.  "She  should  be  out  on 
such  a  glorious  day.  I'll  speak  to  her  about  it." 

"Oh,  she'll  come  out  in  a  little  while,"  Betty 
hastened  to  say.  "She's  just  talking  to  Miss 
Crosby. ' ' 

"Oh,  well!  I'll  leave  you  two  to  see  that  she 
does,"  Mrs.  Baird  said  severely.  "And  now, 
about  the  coasting.  I  want  you  three  girls,  and 
any  of  the  other  Seniors,  of  course," — she  added, 
on  second  thought — "to  watch  every  new  girl  go 
down  the  hill  once,  then  if  she  is  really  not  fit  to 
coast,  you  must  tell  her.  I'll  leave  the  decision 
to  you." 

"You  mean  that  if  we  don't  think  they  really 
know  enough  about  it,  that  we  are  to  tell  them 
they  must  keep  off  the  big  hill?"  Polly  asked. 
The  idea  struck  her  as  a  very  good  one — new  girls 


84    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

were  always  a  nuisance  at  first — but  she  wished 
the  decision  had  been  left  to  some  one  else. 

"They  can  use  the  little  hill,  can't  they?"  Betty 
asked.  "No  one  could  hurt  themselves  on  that." 

Mrs.  Baird  nodded  her  head.  ' '  That  I  leave  to 
you ;  you're  much  the  better  judge.  Only  do  make 
haste,  I  am  so  afraid  some  one  will  be  hurt.  I 
saw  little  Phylis  Guile  almost  run  into  a  tree. ' ' 

Polly  and  Betty  promised  to  start  at  once. 
They  went  up  to  the  studio  and  made  Lois  put 
away  her  brushes  and  join  them.  Then  they  told 
the  Dorothys  and  Evelin  and  Mildred.  Polly  sta- 
tioned them  along  the  hill — Betty  at  the  top,  to 
judge  of  the  start — the  others  along  the  way. 
while  she  and  Lois  watched  the  curve  at  the  end. 

They  stayed  at  their  posts  all  the  afternoon, 
every  now  and  then  jotting  down  some  girl's  name 
and  quietly  telling  them  that  they  would  have  to 
do  the  rest  of  their  coasting  on  the  little  hill. 
Sometimes  they  met  with  protests,  but,  for  the 
most  part  their  Senior  dignity  upheld  them. 

"What  under  the  sun  will  we  do  about  Jane 
and  Phylis?"  Polly  asked.  "They'll  kill  them- 
selves if  they  go  down  again,  and  if  we  just  tell 
them  they  can't  it  will  break  their  hearts." 

Lois  considered.  "I've  got  it.  "We'll  make  it 
seem  a  favor  to  us." 


A  Senior  Dispute  85 

"But  how?"  Polly  demanded,  as  the  two 
younger  girls  came  flying  recklessly  around  the 
turn. 

"Leave  that  to  me,"  Lois  whispered.  "Oh, 
Jane,  will  you  and  Phylis  come  here  a  minute? 
Polly  and  I  have  the  greatest  favor  to  ask  of  you. 
I  wonder  if  you'll  help  us  out?"  she  asked. 

"Of  course  we  will,"  they  answered  promptly. 
"We'll  do  anything." 

Lois  felt  like  a  hypocrite,  but  she  went  on  to 
explain : 

"  It 's  about  coasting, ' '  she  said.  1 1  You  see,  Mrs. 
Baird  has  asked  us,  to  tell  all  the  new  girls  that 
are  not  used  to  such  a  dangerous  hill,  that  they 
must  coast  on  the  small  hill  by  the  pond.  Of 
course  some  of  them  are  not  even  able  to  do  that, 
and  they  ought  to  be  watched."  Lois  stopped — 
took  a  long  breath  and  looked  appealingly  at  Polly. 

"We  thought  you  might  be  willing  to  go  over 
and  coast  there,  and  sort  of  keep  an  eye  out  that 
no  one  is  hurt,"  Polly  said,  coming  to  her  rescue. 
"We'll  be  so  busy  here." 

"Why  we'd  love  to,"  Jane  said  eagerly. 

* '  We  don 't  mind  a  bit, ' '  Phylis  protested.  ' '  Are 
we  to  tell  them  to  stop  if  we  see  any  one  that's 
reckless  ? ' ' 

"Mercy!    No!"   Lois   exclaimed.    She   had   a 


86    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

sudden  vision  of  these  two  youngsters  using  their 
authority  at  every  possible  excuse.  "That  would 
hurt  their  feelings.  Just  use  lots  of  tact  and 
perhaps  show  them  what  to  do,  but  not  in  a — 
in  a — " 

"I  know,"  laughed  Jane.  "You  mean  don't  be 
fresh  the  way  we  were  to  Fanny.  We  won't." 

"Oh,"  Polly  sighed  when  they  had  hurried  off. 
"What  a  wonder  you  are,  Lois,  and  they  really  will 
help." 

"Of  course  they  will.  Good  gracious!  Here 
comes  Fanny." 

From  where  they  stood  they  could  see  the  long 
stretch  of  the  hill,  just  before  the  curve.  Fanny, 
sitting  bolt  upright,  an  unforgivable  sin — in 
Polly 's  eyes — was  whirling  down  it.  She  had  ap- 
parently lost  all  control  of  her  sled.  Polly  and 
Lois  held  their  breath. 

On  one  side  of  the  curve,  a  big  rock  jutted  out 
at  right  angles  to  the  road,  and  on  the  other  a 
cobble  stone  gutter  offered  almost  as  dangerous 
an  alternative.  Fortunately,  Fanny,  or  rather 
Fanny's  sled,  chose  the  latter.  There  was  a  sec- 
ond of  flying  snow  mixed  up  somehow  with  Fan- 
ny's arms  and  legs,  and  then  quiet.  Polly  and 
Lois  dashed  to  the  spot. 

"Are  you  hurt?"  Lois  demanded. 


A  Senior  Dispute  87 

Fanny  sat  up.  "Well  I  never  did,"  she  said 
wonderingly.  "What  do  you  suppose  happened 
to  that  little  old  sled?" 

Polly's  sudden  relief  took  the  form  of  anger. 

"You  had  no  right  to  try  this  hill,"  she  said 
severely.  "Did  Betty  see  you  start?" 

Fanny  stiffened.  "Yes,  she  did  if  you  want  to 
know,"  she  said.  "And  she  told  me  not  to. 
But — "  She  paused  to  give  her  words  better  ef- 
fect. "Betty  and  you  and  Lois,  are  not  the  only 
Seniors  at  this  school,  though  you  do  act  most 
mighty  like  you  thought  you  were.  I  got  my  per- 
mission from  the  two  Dorothys,"  she  finished  with 
a  triumphant  toss  of  her  head. 

Polly  and  Lois  looked  at  each  other  in  amaze- 
ment. Something  had  come  over  Fanny  of  late. 
They  had  noticed  it,  but  other  matters  had  made 
it  seem  unimportant.  She  had  always  been  on 
hand  for  basket  ball  practice,  but  her  attitude  had 
been  sullen  and  she  had  spent  most  of  her  time 
with  the  Dorothys  and  Evelin. 

Polly  realized  that  this  was  an  important  point 
and  must  be  dealt  with.  She  wasn't  angry  at 
Fanny,  for  she  knew  to  just  what  extent  her  class- 
mates were  to  blame. 

'  *  Did  Dot  Mead  know  Betty  had  told  you  not  to 
coast  on  this  hill ! ' '  she  asked  finally. 


88    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"She  certainly  did."  Fanny  was  still  trium- 
phant. 

Polly  bit  her  underlip  and  half  closed  her  eyes. 
Lois  saw  these  unmistakable  signs  of  danger,  and 
tried  to  make  peace. 

"Are  you  sure?"  she  asked  hopefully. 

"I  am."    Fanny  was  ridiculously  solemn. 

"Then  the  Dorothys  went  beyond  their  author- 
ity," Polly  said  coldly.  "And  their  permission 
counts  for  nothing.  You  can  see  for  yourself  that 
you  can't  manage  on  this  hill;  you  nearly  hurt 
yourself  just  now." 

"I  did  no  such  a  thing,"  Fanny  interrupted 
lamely.  But  Polly  paid  no  attention  to  her. 

"As  captain  of  the  basket  ball  team,  and  Senior 
head  of  athletics" — the  title  rolled  from  her  lips 
importantly — "I  forbid  you  to  coast  on  this  hill 
again,  no  matter  who  gives  you  permission,"  she 
said  with  unmistakable  decision.  Then,  without 
another  word  she  turned  on  her  heel  and  went  up 
the  hill  with  Lois. 

Half  way  to  the  top,  they  found  Betty  in  heated 
argument  with  Dot  Mead.  Now  when  Betty  was 
angry  she  stormed.  At  this  present  moment,  she 
was  more  than  angry,  she  was  furious. 

"You  had  no  right  whatever  to  do  it,"  she  raged, 
as  Polly  and  Lois  joined  them.  "You  didn't  do  it 


A  Senior  Dispute  89 

because  you  thought  Fanny  really  knew  how  to 
coast;  you  just  thought  it  was  a  good  chance  to 
get  even  with  me.  You  Ve  a  fine  idea  of  class  dig- 
nity to  do  anything  so  petty.  If  you  ever  do  a 
thing  like  that  again — Jemima,  I'll —  You  ought 
to  be  ashamed  of  yourself.  You're  jealous. 
That's—" 

"Steady,  Bet,"  Polly  said  quietly,  "and  do  save 
your  breath.  Dot  can't  do  it  again.  I've  just 
told  Fanny  she  must  not  use  this  hill  and  she  quite 
understands." 

"Then  we  will  tell  her  she  can."  Dorothy  Lan- 
sing spoke  for  the  first  time. 

Betty  and  Lois  looked  at  Polly.  She  picked  up 
the  rope  of  her  sled  and  started  up  the  hill. 

"Tell  her  anything  you  like,"  she  said  over  her 
shoulder,  "but  she  won't  coast  again." 

When  the  three  reached  Senior  Alley,  they  met 
Angela.  They  were  full  of  indignation  and  would 
have  told  her  all  about  it,  but  Angela  had  news 
too.  She  greeted  them  excitedly. 

"Girls!  what  do  you  think,  Connie  comes  to- 
night. She'll  be  here  on  the  five-eleven.  She 
'phoned  Mrs.  Baird  from  New  York.  Did  you 
ever  hear  anything  so  thrilling?  Just  imagine 
Connie  back  again!" 

"For  good!"  Polly  demandtd. 


90    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"No,  just  for  a  visit,  she's  going  back  day  after 
to-morrow." 

"Jemima!  I'm  glad,"  Betty  exclaimed. 
"Won't  it  be  natural  to  have  her  around  again?" 

"We've  always  missed  her,"  Lois  added. 
"Can't  we  have  something  special  for  her  to- 
night?" 

"How  about  a  straw  ride?"  suggested  Betty; 
"Mrs.  Baird  would  let  us — it's  Friday." 

"Oh,  let's,  and  just  ask  the  old  girls  who  knew 
her,"  Angela  hurried  on — her  drawl  for  once  dis- 
carded. "We'll  get  Mrs.  Baird  to  chaperone,  if 
we  can." 

"I'll  go  ask  her,"  Betty  volunteered.  "You  go 
get  the  girls. 

"I  suppose  all  the  Seniors  will  go,"  Angela  said, 
none  too  enthusiastically,  and  Polly  and  Lois  sud- 
denly remembered  that  she  had  not  heard  about 
the  Dorothys.  Lois  told  her. 

"Polly  just  mounted  her  dignity  and  oh,  Ange, 
it  was  rare,"  she  finished,  laughing.  "But  I  sup- 
pose they  must  be  asked." 

"Let's  tell  Bet  she  has  to  do  it,"  Polly  suggest- 
ed. * '  She 's  so  raging  at  Dot  Mead,  that  she  wants 
to  box  her  ears. ' ' 

"You'll  really  have  to,  Ange,"  Lois  said. 

"Not  I,  you're  Senior  president,"  Angela  pro- 


A  Senior  Dispute  91 

tested,  adding  nonchalantly:  "Besides,  if  I  ask, 
they  might  accept.  Were  Evelin  and  Helen  in  it  ? ' ' 

"No,  they  must  go  to-night;  the  Senior  class 
must  not  be  divided  equally  against  itself,"  Polly 
said,  thoughtfully.  "I'll  ask  them  now,  and  I'll 
make  them  go. '  '  She  went  off  to  find  them. 

A  few  minutes  before  study  hour  they  all  met  in 
Study  Hall. 

"Mrs.  Baird  says  we  may  go,  of  course,"  Betty 
began,  "and  she's  told  McDonald  to  bring  around 
the  sleigh  at  seven-fifteen." 

"Will  she  chaperone?" 

"No,  she's  got  an  awful  lot  to  do.  She  sug- 
gested Miss  Crosby.  So  I  asked  her.  She  said 
she'd  love  to —  I'd  rather  have  had  Miss  Porter, 
on  account  of  Connie — but  I  didn't  like  to  say  so." 

"Evelin  and  Mildred  will  come;  they  were  a 
little  cold  at  first,"  Polly  said,  "but  they're  all 
r^ht  now,  and  crazy  to  see  Connie." 

•'How  about  the  Dorothys,  Lo!"  Betty  de- 
manded. 

Lois  chuckled  wickedly. 

"They  have  made  other  plans  for  this  evening, 
and  will  be  unable  to  go,"  she  said,  sadly.  "I 
didn't  urge  them." 

"Good;  that  leaves  about  fifteen — just  the  right 
number  for  the  wagon."  Angela  consulted  her 


92     Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

list.  "I've  got  enough  cracker g  and  chocolate  for 
everybody,"  she  added. 

"Look  at  the  time!"  Betty  exclaimed.  "Who 
keeps  study  hour  to-night?" 

"The  Spartan." 

"Oh,  Lordy !  Well,  I'll  have  to  be  late.  Some- 
body tell  her  I  have  Mrs.  Baird's  permission,  if 
she  misses  my  smiling  face. ' ' 

"Where  are  you  going?"  Polly  asked. 

"To  get  my  clothes  and  take  them  to  the  guest 
room.  Mrs.  Baird  said  Connie  would  sleep  with 
Ange  while  she's  here.  I'm  off." 

"Betty,  you  darling!"  Angela  exclaimed — but 
Betty  was  half  way  down  the  hall. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

AN    EVENTFUL   STRAW-RIDE 

STUDY  hour  began  at  five  o  'clock  and  lasted  until 
six-thirty. 

The  girls  found  it  impossible  to  get  to  work.  At 
exactly  five-eleven,  Angela  threw  a  note  to  Polly. 

1  'Her  train  is  due,"  it  read.  "Do  you  suppose 
we  '11  have  to  wait  until  dinner  to  see  her ! ' ' 

Polly  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  shook  her 
head  in  reply,  and  tried  to  get  interested  in  her 
history. 

A  few  minutes  later,  Lois  left  her  seat  and  went 
over  to  the  dictionary  by  the  window.  The  sound 
of  carriage  wheels  made  her  completely  forget  the 
word  she  was  hunting  for.  She  peeked  out  of  the 
window.  There  was  Connie  on  the  driveway. 
Lois  watched  her  pay  the  driver  and  pick  up  her 
suitcase.  Then  she  went  back  to  her  seat. 

"She's  here,"  she  whispered  to  Angela  and 
Polly  in  passing. 

Angela  almost  shouted  with  joy,  but  the  Spar- 
tan's frown  of  displeasure  at  the  disturbance  at  the 
back  of  the  room  made  her  bury  her  head  in  her 

93 


94    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

desk.  Just  as  the  clock  struck  the  half  hour,  Betty 
came  in.  She  went  up  to  the  platform  and  said, 
loud  enough  for  everybody  to  hear : 

"Miss  Hale,  Constance  Wentworth  is  here,  and 
Mrs.  Baird  wants  Angela  in  her  office. ' ' 

There  was  a  general  murmur  of  "oh,  good!" 
through  the  room,  and  Angela  was  half  way  to  the 
door  before  Miss  Hale  had  given  her  permission. 
Everybody  laughed  as  they  heard  her  running 
down  the  stairs,  two  steps  at  a  time. 

Connie  was  waiting  for  her.  They  fell  into  each 
other's  arms  and  kissed  heartily.  Mrs.  Baird  was 
sitting  at  her  desk. 

"Take  Constance  upstairs,  will  you,  Angela," 
she  said,  smiling.  "I'll  excuse  you  from  study 
hour,  for  I  know  you  wouldn't  be  able  to  do  any 
real  studying.  Constance  will  room  with  you. 
Betty  has  arranged  it.  Isn't  it  nice  to  have  her 
back?"  she  asked  with  a  special  smile  for  Connie. 

Tears,  the  sudden,  grateful  kind,  sprang  to  Con- 
stance's  eyes. 

"Oh,  if  you  knew  how  homesick  I  get  for  all 
this,"  she  said  falteringly.  "I  was  afraid  to 
come  back  for  fear  I'd  feel  out  of  it,  but  I  don't," 
she  added  happily. 

Angela  took  her  bag  and  hurried  her  up  to  their 
room. 


An  Eventful  Straw-Ride  95 

"Now,  tell  me  all  about  everything,"  she  de- 
manded when  Connie  had  taken  off  her  things. 
"Don't  you  like  the  Conservatory!" 

"Of  course,  it's  wonderful,"  Connie  answered, 
enthusiastically,  "and  I'm  working  like  mad.  I 
get  awfully  lonesome  when  I  don't.  How's  every- 
body ?  I  saw  Bet  for  a  second ;  she  hasn't  changed 
much. ' ' 

"Everybody's  fine.  Lo  saw  you  coming,  and 
nearly  jumped  out  of  the  window  with  excite- 
ment, ' '  Angela  told  her.  "  I  've  written  you  all  the 
news.  We're  going  on  a  straw-ride  to-night — just 
the  old  girls  that  you  know  and  like. ' ' 

"Oh,  fine!  I  hoped  we  could  coast  anyway." 
Connie  was  delighted.  "Honestly,  Ange,"  she 
said,  seriously.  "You  don't  know  how  good  it  is 
to  stop  being  grown  up.  I  have  to  be  so  dignified 
and  ancient  all  the  time,  especially  when  I  give 
concerts.  Oh,  by  the  way!  I've  got  a  surprise 
for  you." 

"What?"  Angela  demanded. 

"I'm  going  abroad  next  spring  to  study  for  a 
year — I've  won  a  scholarship." 

* '  Connie !    Not  honestly  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  it's  all  decided;  mother  is  going  to  take 
me  over  and  leave  me;  it's  a  secret,  so  don't  tell 
any  one." 


96    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

Angela  studied  her  friend's  familiar  face  in  si- 
lence for  a  minute.  It  was  just  like  Connie  to  win 
a  scholarship  and  then  not  tell  anybody. 

"I  don't  believe  it's  a  secret,"  she  said  at  last. 
"You  just  don't  want  anybody  to  know  about  it. 
Well,  I'm  going  to  announce  it  to  the  whole 
school, ' '  she  finished  grandly. 

" Don't  you  dare,  Ange.  I'd  die  of  embarrass- 
ment," Connie  pleaded.  "Promise  you  won't." 

"I'll  promise  nothing,"  Angela  insisted. 
* '  There 's  the  bell.  Come  on  and  see  Poll  and  Lo. ' ' 

It  was  almost  a  marvel  the  way  Angela  fol- 
lowed out  her  threat.  In  the  ten  minutes  before 
dinner,  while  Connie  was  surrounded  by  her  other 
friends,  she  managed  to  convey  to  every  girl  in  the 
school  that  Constance  Wentworth  was  the  most 
wonderful  pianist  in  the  world,  and  that  she  had, 
by  her  superior  ability,  won  a  scholarship. 

Poor  Connie!    She  was  always  shy  where  her 

music  was  concerned,  and  she  blushed  in  misery 

^% 

under  the  torrent  of  congratulations,  and  never 
touched  a  bite  of  dinner. 

At  seven-fifteen  the  sleigh  was  waiting  at  the 
door.  It  was  filled  with  fresh  straw,  and  every 
available  robe  and  blanket  that  could  be  found  in 
the  stables  had  been  brought. 

Old  McDonald,  one  of  the  chief  characters  of 


An  Eventful  Straw-Ride  97 

Seddon  Hall,  sat  on  the  front  seat,  muffled  up  to 
his  eyes.  He  had  grown  quite  old  and  feeble  in  the 
last  two  years,  and  many  of  his  duties  had  been 
given  to  younger  men,  but  no  one  thought  of  even 
offering  to  drive  in  his  place  to-night.  He  always 
drove  the  young  ladies  on  their  straw-rides,  and 
he  would  never  have  even  considered  trusting  them 
to  the  care  of  another. 

Polly  and  Lois  came  out  first,  to  be  followed  by 
Betty,  and  Angela  and  Connie. 

They  all  got  in  and  began  sorting  the  robes — all 
but  Polly — she  went  around  to  the  horses'  heads. 

' '  Good  evening,  McDonald, ' '  she  called.  * l  Why, 
aren't  these  new?"  She  looked  surprised  at  the 
splendid  gray  team — she  had  expected  to  see  the 
two  old  bays. 

"Yes,  Miss  Polly;  they  were  bought  last  sum- 
mer. The  others  were  getting  old  and  we  put 
them  out  to  pasture.  How  do  you  like  this  pair  ? ' ' 

"Why,  they're  beauties."  Polly  stroked  their 
velvety  noses,  affectionately.  '  *  Are  they  frisky  t ' ' 

"Well!"  McDonald  took  time  to  think,  "they 
are  a  bit,  but  nothing  to  be  afraid  of.  I  can  man- 
age them." 

"Oh,  of  course  you  can!"  Polly  said,  with  so 
much  conviction  that  the  old  man  beamed  with 
pride. 


98    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"All  in!"  Betty  called,  "and  all  aboard! 
Move  your  foot,  Lo.  I  want  ©ne  side  of  Con- 
nie." 

"Where  are  we  going?"  somebody  asked. 

"Out  towards  Eagle's  Nest,"  Polly  answered. 
"The  roads  are  not  used  out  there  and  it  ought 
to  be  good  for  sleighing." 

"We're  off." 

"Cheer  once  for  Seddon  Hall,"  Betty  com- 
manded and  was  promptly  obeyed.  "Now  for 
Connie.  We've  time  for  one  song  before  we  reach 
the  village,"  she  said,  after  Connie  had  been  lust- 
ily cheered.  * '  Everybody  sing. ' ' 

They  reached  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  the  horses 
broke  into  a  quick  trot — the  bells  on  their  harness 
jingled  merrily  in  the  crisp,  cold  air.  It  was  a 
wonderful  night.  The  moon  was  almost  full,  and 
its  brilliant  rays,  falling  on  the  white  snow,  made 
it  sparkle  like  millions  of  stars. 

"Are  you  quite  comfy,  Miss  Crosby?"  Lois 
asked.  "There's  a  rug  around  here,  somewhere, 
if  you  're  cold. ' ' 

"Thanks !  I  don't  need  it ;  I'm  as  warm  as  toast. 
My  feet  are  lost  somewhere  in  the  straw.  I  feel  as 
if  I  were  back  in  Alaska  again,"  Miss  Crosby  said, 
"only  the  horses  should  be  dogs." 

"Were  you  ever  in  Alaska?"  half  a  dozen  voices 


An  Eventful  Straw-Ride  99 

asked  at  once.  The  song  was  over  and  they  were 
just  entering  the  village. 

"Tell  us  about  it,"  Lois  said. 

1 'No,  no,  go  on  and  sing  some  more !" 

"We  can't,  not  for  a  mile — that's  a  rule,"  Betty 
told  her.  "Mrs.  Baird  doesn't  think  the  village 
people  would  appreciate  our  music,"  she  ex- 
plained. "They're  not  very  nice  people,  but  we 
can't  annoy  them.  Please  tell  us  about  'straw- 
rides  in  Alaska.'  " 

Miss  Crosby  laughed,  and  began.  She  was  a 
charming  woman  and  a  gifted  story-teller.  She 
had  traveled  all  over  the  world,  and  because  she 
was  interested  in  all  the  little  things,  her  adven- 
tures had  been  many.  She  told  them  to-night 
about  one  ride  she  had  taken  for  miles  inland  and 
held  every  one  of  them  spellbound  by  her  account 
of  it. 

They  were  far  beyond  the  village  before  she 
stopped.  "We  finally  did  get  to  camp,  and,  of 
course,  after  it  was  over,  it  didn't  seem  so  terri- 
ble," she  finished.  "Now  do  sing  some  more; 
you've  made  me  talk  quite  long  enough." 

"And  did  the  dog's  foot  get  well?"  Polly  in- 
quired, still  miles  away  in  fancy. 

"No;  he  died,"  Miss  Crosby  whispered. 
1 '  Plucky  little  fellow !  Do  sing. ' ' 


100    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

There  was  a  whispered  consultation,  and  then: 

" There's  a  teacher  on  our  faculty,  her  name  it 
is  Miss  Crosby,"  Betty  sang,  and  the  rest  joined  in 
the  refrain :  ' '  Oh,  we  'd  like  to  know  any  one  with 
more  go,  and  we  will  stand  by  her  to  the  end-o." 
From  one  song  they  went  to  another,  until  they 
reached  Eagle  Nest. 

" Everybody  out!"  Polly  ordered,  "and  stretch. 
Where's  that  chocolate  you  were  talking  about, 
Ange?  I'm  hungry." 

For  five  minutes  they  walked  around,  stamped 
their  feet  to  warm  up,  rminching  crackers  and 
chocolate  in  between. 

Then  McDonald  called:  "You've  all  got  to  come 
back,  young  ladies.  I'm  sorry,  but  these  horses  do 
hate  to  stand  even  a  minute."  He  was  very  apol- 
ogetic, but  the  grays  were  showing  signs  of  rest- 
lessness, and  pawing  the  ground. 

The  girls  scrambled  back  into  the  sleigh  and 
almost  before  they  were  seated  the  horses  broke 
into  a  run. 

About  a  mile  farther  on,  as  McDonald  slowed 
down  at  a  crossroad,  they  heard  the  jingling  of 
other  sleigh  bells. 

"Who  do  you  suppose  that  is?"  Connie  asked. 
"Listen,  they're  singing!"  A  minute  later  a 
sleigh  like  their  own  swung  round  the  corner — it 


An  Eventful  Straw-Ride  101 

was  full  of  boys.  Their  driver  slowed  down  to 
give  McDonald  the  right  of  way. 

"Why,  it  must  be  the  Seddon  Hall  girls,"  they 
heard  one  of  the  boys  shout.  "Let's  give  them  a 
cheer,  fellows ! ' ' 

"What  school  is  it?"  Miss  Crosby  asked.  "Do 
you  know,  Lois  ? ' ' 

"Perhaps  it's  the  Military  Academy,"  Angela 
suggested. 

Betty  stood  up  in  the  middle  of  the  sleigh  and 
balanced  herself  by  holding  on  to  Connie  and  Lois. 

"No!"  she  said.  "They  haven't  any  uniform 
on.  I  can  see —  I  wish  McDonald  would  let  them 
get  ahead." 

By  this  time  the  yell  was  in  full  swing.  When  it 
ended  the  boys  waited  in  vain  for  a  reply. 

"Maybe  they  didn't  hear  us,"  one  of  them 
shouted.  "Let's  give  them  a  regular  cheer  with 
horns. ' ' 

Polly,  who  had  been  edging  up  slowly  toward  the 
front  seat  of  the  sleigh,  ever  since  they  had  started, 
gave  a  sudden  spring  and  climbed  up  beside  Mc- 
Donald. She  knew  exactly  what  was  going  to  hap- 
pen. 

At  the  first  sound  of  the  horn,  the  horses — al- 
ready frightened  out  of  their  senses  by  all  the 
singing  and  yelling — reared  up  on  their  hind  legs 


102    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

for  one  terrifying  second,  and  then  holted.  Poor 
McDonald  tried  to  bring  them  back  under  his  con- 
trol, but  as  he  realized  their  condition,  his  nerve 
failed  him. 

"They're  gone,  Miss,"  he  said  in  an  agonized 
whisper  to  Polly,  and  his  hands  relaxed  on  the 
reins. 

The  girls,  now  thoroughly  conscious  of  their  dan- 
ger, hung  on  for  dear  life,  and  some  of  them  cried 
out. 

The  deafening  shouts  and  the  blowing  of  the 
horns  kept  up  in  the  sleigh  behind.  The  boys 
thought  they  were  being  raced. 

Polly  thought  hard  for  just  the  fraction  of  a 
minute.  Then  she  took  the  reins  from  McDonald's 
unresisting  hands  and  pulled.  She  knew  that 
her  strength  was  not  equal  to  stopping  those  wild 
runaways,  but  she  felt  she  could  keep  them  headed 
straight,  and  avoid  tipping  the  sleigh.  Just  as  she 
was  trying  to  remember  where  she  was  and  to 
place  the  hill  that  she  knew  was  on  the  right  at 
a  cross-road,  poor  old  McDonald  fainted  and  fell 
backwards  into  the  sleigh. 

She  didn't  dare  turn  her  head,  but  she  heard 
Lois  say : 

"I've  got  him;  help  me,  Bet,"  and  Miss  Crosby 
cry  out : 


An  Eventful  Straw-Ride  103 

'  *  The  reins !    The  reins ! ' ' 

"I've  got  them;  don't  worry!"  Polly's  voice 
sounded  miles  away.  Her  head  was  throbbing. 
'  *  Can  I  make  it  ?  Can  I  make  it? "  she  kept  saying 
over  and  over  under  her  breath. 

She  saw  the  cross-road  ahead;  on  the  right  a 
steep  hill  led  up  to  an  old,  deserted  hotel.  For 
a  minute  she  hesitated.  The  horses  were  good  for 
miles  more  at  top  speed.  She  knew  if  they  had 
level  ground,  that  meant  entering  the  village.  She 
decided  quickly.  It  must  be  the  hill.  If  she 
could  only  make  the  turn.  She  tightened  her  grip 
on  the  reins  and  felt  the  horses  slack  just  the 
least  little  bit.  She  pulled  hard  on  the  left  rein, 
and  then  as  they  came  to  the  turn — on  the  right 
one — so  as  to  describe  a  wide  half  circle  and  save 
the  sleigh  from  tipping.  The  sudden  turn  fright- 
ened the  girls. 

"Where  are  we  going?" 

"Oh,  stop  them!" 

Polly  heard  their  cries  as  in  a  dream.  She  took 
time  to  smile  and  toss  her  head  to  get  a  lock  of  hair 
out  of  her  eye.  She  had  felt  the  slight,  but  certain 
relaxing  on  the  lines,  and  she  knew  the  worst  was 
over. 

The  hill  was  about  a  mile  long,  Mid  by  the  time 
the  horses  reached  the  top,  Polly  had  them  com- 


104    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

pletely  under  her  control.  She  stopped  them, 
finally,  under  the  old  tumbled  down  porte-cochere 
of  the  hotel.  They  were  trembling  all  over  and 
they  were  sweating. 

"Get  out!"  Polly  ordered,  "and  don't  make  any 
noise.  We'll  have  to  wait  a  minute  before  we  go 
back — give  me  some  blankets  for  the  horses,  and 
look  after  McDonald. 

Miss  Crosby  was  already  doing  it.  The  old  man 
had  collapsed  and  lost  consciousness,  but  now  he 
was  coming  around.  With  Betty  to  help,  she  had 
rolled  him  up  in  a  robe  in  the  middle  of  the  sleigh, 
and  tried  to  soothe  him ;  his  grief  was  pathetic. 

"  I  'm  done  for ;  I  'm  done  for ! "  he  kept  repeat- 
ing. 

Lois  helped  Polly  with  the  horses. 

"Sit  down,  Poll,"  she  said,  authoritatively. 
"You  need  rest,  too.  You'll  have  to  drive  us 
home." 

Polly  looked  at  her  gratefully — her  knees  were 
trembling. 

"I  better  keep  going,"  she  answered.  "Just 
don't  let  the  girls  talk  to  me  and  I'll  be  all  right." 
She  was  stroking  one  of  the  horse's  necks. 

Lois  went  round  to  the  back  of  the  sleigh.  The 
girls  were  standing  in  a  huddled  group. 


An  Eventful  Straw-Ride  105 

"Lo,  will  we  ever  get  home?"  Angela  asked, 
tearfully. 

*  *  Of  course,  silly, ' '  Lois  replied,  calmly.  ' l  Polly 
stopped  the  horses  running  away ;  I  guess  she  can 
drive  us  back  all  right;  she's  nervous,  of  course, 
so  don't  talk  to  her." 

"We  won't,"  Mildred  said.  " Mercy,  but  she's 
a  wonder!  I'm,  oh!  I'm  going  to  cry." 

Lois  left  the  others  to  deal  with  her  and  re- 
turned to  Polly. 

"When  do  we  start?"  she  asked,  abruptly. 
Don't  think  for  a  minute  she  was  acting  under  her 
natural  impulse.  If  she  had  been,  she  would  have 
thrown  her  arms  around  Polly  and  been  very  fool- 
ish; but  she  was  trying  to  act  the  way  she  knew 
Bob  would  have — without  fuss.  She  knew  how 
Polly  hated  a  fuss. 

"Now,  the  horses  mustn't  catch  cold  and  Mc- 
Donald ought  to  see  a  doctor,"  Polly  said.  "Tell 
them  to  get  in,  will  you?  and,  Lo,"  she  added  with 
a  grin,  "pray  hard  going  down  hill.  I  have  my 
doubts  about  the  brake. ' ' 

When  they  were  all  in,  Miss  Crosby  said : 

"I  think  we  better  take  McDonald  to  the  hos- 
pital." 

Polly  nodded:  "All  right,  I  know  where  it  is." 


106    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

The  horses,  sure  of  themselves  by  now,  and  con- 
fident in  their  driver,  behaved  very  well. 

At  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  they  drew  up  be- 
fore the  little  white  hospital,  and  Betty  jumped  out 
and  rang  the  bell.  A  nurse  answered  it.  In  a  few 
minutes  they  were  carrying  McDonald  in  on  a 
stretcher. 

As  they  started  up  the  steps  with  him,  he  called : 
'  *  Miss  Polly ! "  in  a  shaky  voice. 

Polly  jumped  down  from  her  seat,  and  went 
to  him. 

"I'm  done  for,"  he  said,  slowly,  ''and  you're  a 
very  wonderful  girl.  You  stopped  those  horses, 
you  did,  and  I — I  couldn't — "  He  broke  down. 

11  Nonsense,  McDonald!  Your  hands  were 
cold,"  Polly  said.  "You'll  be  fine  in  the  morning 
and  able  to  drive  anything.  Cheer  up ! "  But  Mc- 
Donald only  repeated:  "I'm  done  for." 

A  lump  rose  in  Polly's  throat  at  his  distress, 
and  she  leaned  down  and  kissed  his  wrinkled  old 
face. 

She  cried  quite  shamelessly  all  the  way  back  to 
school — secure  in  the  fact  that  no  one  could  see 
her. 

In  the  sleigh  the  girls  were  beginning  to  recover. 

"Jemima!"  Betty  said,  breaking  a  long  silence. 
"Poll  saved  all  our  lives;  do  you  know  it?" 


An  Eventful  Straw-Bide  107 

Connie  shivered.  "I'm  just  beginning  to  real- 
ize it,"  she  said,  solemnly.  ''All  the  time  every- 
thing was  happening  I  was  trying  to  remember  the 
last  duet  I  learned. ' '  Everybody  laughed. 

" Polly  is — "  Miss  Crosby  began.  "Well,  she's 
so  splendid  that —  But  I  guess  we'd  better  not 
talk  about  it.  We're  all  on  the  verge  of  tears." 

"Let's  cheer  for  her,"  some  one  suggested. 
"Maybe  we'll  get  our  courage  back." 

They  gave  it — a  long,  long  one — that  had  in  it  all 
their  admiration  and  gratitude.  And  every  poor 
tired  muscle  in  Polly 's  valiant  little  body  throbbed 
with  joy  at  the  sound. 


CHAPTER  IX 

A   STARTLING   DISCOVERY 

THE  next  morning  Polly  stayed  in  bed  for  break- 
fast, as  befitted  a  heroine,  and  received  visitors. 
All  the  faculty  came  in,  one  after  the  other,  to 
congratulate  her.  Miss  Crosby's  ability  as  a 
story-teller  had  served  to  picture  the  events  of  the 
night  before  in  vivid  colors,  and  Polly's  splendid 
courage  had  not  lost  in  the  telling. 

Lois  and  Betty  kept  watch  at  the  door,  and  ad- 
mitted only  the  girls  that  they  knew  Polly  would 
want  to  see.  They  were  not  many,  for  she  had  a 
headache  and  was  thoroughly  tired.  When  the 
bell  rang  for  study  hour,  they  left  Connie  with  her. 

"Sit  down  and  make  yourself  comfy.  Here's  a 
pillow."  Polly  threw  one  of  Lois'  to  the  foot  of 
the  bed,  and  Connie  stuffed  it  behind  her  back. 

"It's  perfectly  silly,  my  lying  in  bed  like  this," 
Polly  went  on,  yawning  and  stretching  luxuriously, 
*  *  but  Mrs.  Baird  insisted. ' ' 

1 1 1  should  think  so.  You  must  be  nearly  dead. ' ' 
Connie  looked  at  her,  wondering. 

108 


A  Startling  Discovery  109 

' '  Honestly,  Poll,  you  were  wonderful.  How  did 
you  think  of  that  hill,  and  have  sense  enough  to 
go  up  it  ? " 

Polly  buried  her  head  in  the  pillows  and  groaned. 

"Not  you  too,  Connie?"  she  asked,  tragically. 
"Do  I  have  to  explain  again  that  I  was  brought 
up  with  horses  and  have  driven  all  my  life,  and 
been  in  any  number  of  runaways,  so  that  I  am 
not  afraid  of  any  horse  that  lives?  There,  now, 
I've  told  you,  and  if  you  mention  last  night  again, 
I'll  ask  Miss  King  to  pull  you  out  of  my  room  by 
the  hair  of  your  head. ' ' 

"I  won't,  I  won't,  on  my  oath!"  Connie  prom- 
ised, laughing.  "1*11  even  contradict  all  these 
people  who  are  calling  you  a  brave  heroine,  if  you 
say  so." 

' '  I  wish  you  would, ' '  Polly  said,  crossly.  ' '  Her- 
oine! how  perfectly  silly." 

1 '  Of  course  it  is,  now  that  I  come  to  think  of  it. 
You  didn't  do  anything  so  great,"  Connie  teased, 
"just  stopped  a  couple  of  wildly  running  horses, 
and  saved  fifteen  girls  from  sudden  death — and 
what 's  that  ?  A  mere  nothing. ' ' 

"Connie,  I'll — "  Polly  threatened,  sitting  up 
in  bed,  but  Connie  pushed  her  back.  "You'll  be- 
have like  a  good  child  and  answer  me  some  ques- 
tions." 


110    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Well,  go  ahead  and  ask  them." 

"First,  what's  wrong  with  Dot  Mead?  I  heard 
her  say  to  one  of  the  girls:  'Polly's  bravery  is  so 
awfully  evident,  that  it  almost  looks  like  showing 
off,'  and  when  Dorothy  Lansing  said:  'I  think  so, 
too,'  I  simply  couldn't  help  laughing.  It  was  so 
like  the  Dorothys." 

"Who  were  they  talking  to?"  Polly  asked,  in- 
differently. 

Connie  smiled  at  a  sulden  recollection. 

"A  girl  named  Eleanor  Trent.  She  was  furi- 
ous. She  told  them  they  were  jealous  cats.  Im- 
agine!" 

Polly  smiled  grimly.  "Eleanor  Trent  is  on  my 
team ;  she  naturally  would  resent  it.  Hasn't  Ange 
told  you  about  the  fuss  yesterday,  with  the  Dor- 
othys?" 

"  No ;  what  happened  ? ' '  Connie  was  interested 
immediately.  She  felt  this  was  a  personal  matter 
of  her  class.  For  the  minute,  she  completely  for- 
got she  was  only  a  visitor. 

Polly  described  the  scene  on  the  hill — 

"Three  cheers  for  Betty!"  Connie  laughed, 
heartily.  "I  can  just  imagine  her  rage.  But 
what  is  the  matter  with  this  Fanny?"  she  asked. 

' '  Nobody  knows. ' '  Polly  shook  her  head.  '  *  We 
hurt  her  feelings  early  in  the  year,  and  I  don't 


A  Startling  Discovery  111 

think  she 's  §ver  forgiven  us.  I  'm  gorry,  too ;  she 's 
a  dandy  girl,  if  she'd  only  forget  the  chip  on  her 
shoulder. ' ' 

" Going  with  the  Dorothys  won't  help,"  Connie 
said,  slowly. 

"I  know,  but  what  can  we  do!  Warn  her  that 
too  much  association  with  our  classmates  will  not 
improve  her  disposition?"  Polly  unthinkingly  im- 
itated Miss  Hale's  manner. 

"The  Spartan,"  Connie  laughed.  "You  might 
take  Fanny  up  yourselves,"  she  suggested. 

"We  might,"  Polly  said,  thoughtfully;  "oh, 
there's  the  bell!" 

Study  hour  was  over,  and  a  minute  later,  Lois, 
Betty,  and  Angela  came  in.  There  was  an  air  of 
mystery  about  them,  and  Betty  said:  "Then 
you'll  attend  to  it,  Lo?" 

"No;  Miss  Crosby's  going  to.  I've  just  come 
from  the  studio,"  Lois  answered,  as  she  walked 
over  to  her  bureau. 

"Attend  to  what?"  Polly  demanded. 

"Nothing!"  Angela  assured  her.  "Lo  and 
Betty  are  fussing  over  some  art  secret. ' ' 

"Oh,  well,  what's  the  news?" 

"News?"  Betty  said,  wearily.  "Why,  haven't 
you  heard?  Last  night  a  girl  hero  stopped  two 
rearing,  plunging — " 


112     Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Betty,  if  you  say  one  word  more,"  Polly  pro- 
tested feebly — she  was  laughing  in  spite  of  her- 
self. 

"Hello,  what's  this?"  Lois  had  been  straight- 
ening Polly's  dresser  and  discovered  a  note  be- 
side the  pin  cushion.  "It's  for  you,  Poll."  She 
tossed  it  on  the  bed.  "Must  have  been  here  since 
last  night." 

Polly  opened  and  read  it. 

"Oh,  what  next?"  she  groaned.  "Listen  to 
this :  ' To  the  captain  of  the  basket  ball  team,'  she 
read,  'I  wish  to  say  that  I  resign  from  your  team 
to-day.  Signed,  Fanny  Gerard.'  " 

"Why,  she's  crazy,"  Betty  said,  with  indigna- 
tion. 

"That's  the  dear  Dorothys,"  Angela  remarked, 
airily.  They  were  all  discussing  the  note  at  once, 
when  a  tap  sounded  on  the  door. 

"Go  see  who  it  is,  Lo.  I  don't  want  to  see  any 
one  else  this  morning,"  Polly  protested. 

Lois  went  to  the  door.  They  heard  Jane's  ex- 
cited voice  in  the  corridor. 

"Please  let  us  see  Polly,"  she  asked.  "We 
won't  stay  a  second." 

"And  we  won't  talk  about  last  night,"  Phylis' 
voice  joined  in.  "We've  something  awfully  im- 
portant to  tell  her  and  you. ' ' 


A  Startling  Discovery  113 

Lois  looked  inquiringly  at  Polly  and  the  other 
girls. 

"Oh,  let  them  in,"  Polly  said,  good  naturedly. 
"Hello,  you  two,  what's  the  secret?"  she  greeted 
them. 

They  came  over  to  the  bed.  They  were  very 
much  embarrassed  by  the  presence  of  the  others. 

"You're  not  awfully  sick,  are  you,  Polly!" 
Phylis  asked,  real  distress  in  her  voice. 

"Bless  your  heart,  no,"  Polly  assured  her. 
"I'm  just  being  lazy;  I'll  be  up  for  luncheon." 

"Tell  us  the  something  important,"  Lois  said, 
pulling  Jane  down  beside  her  on  the  window  box. 

Jane  looked  at  Angela  and  Connie. 

"Oh,  never  mind  them,"  Lois  said,  understand- 
ing her  hesitation.  '  *  What  is  it  ?  " 

"Well,"  Jane  began,  desperately,  "I've  got  to 
tell  you  first — that  Phylis  and  I  were  not  very 
nice — " 

"We  listened  behind  a  door,"  Phylis  confessed, 
calmly;  "we  just  had  to." 

"We  were  in  Eleanor  Trent's  room,"  Jane  took 
up  the  story  again.  "You  see,  yesterday  she  bor- 
rowed my  gym  shoes,  and  I  went  down  to  her  room 
to  get  them.  Well,  you  know  her  room  is  next  to 
Fanny  Gerard's,  and  just  as  we  were  coming  out, 
we  heard  some  one  crying — " 


114    Polly 's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

" Fanny  doesn't  like  us  much,"  Phylis  went  on, 
"but  we  stopped  to  listen,  and  we  heard  Dorothy 
Mead  say: 

"  'Well,  don't  be  a  baby  about  it.  Of  course, 
if  you  want  to  have  Polly  boss  you,  you  can,  and 
Fanny—'  " 

"No,  then  Dorothy  Lansing  said,  'you'd  only 
have  to  coast  down  the  hill  once,  to  show  her  you 
wouldn't  let  her,'  "  Jane  interrupted. 

"Fanny  was  crying  and  saying  she  wanted  to 
go  home,  and  that  she  wouldn't  ever  speak  to  any- 
body again.  We  left  them,  and —  Well,  we 
thought  we'd  better  tell  you."  Phylis  ended  the 
tale  and  looked  at  Polly. 

"Poor  Fanny,"  Polly  sighed,  "she's  not  very 
happy.  The  Dorothys  shouldn't  talk  that  way,  of 
course,  but  it's  not  very  important.  Thanks  for 
telling  me,  though.  Don't  listen  any  more. 
Fanny  wouldn't  like  it."  She  treated  the  whole 
thing  so  lightly  that  both  the  younger  girls  thought 
they  had  attached  more  importance  to  the  affair 
than  was  necessary.  After  they  left,  however, 
Polly  sprang  out  of  bed. 

"Something  must  be  done,"  she  declared. 
Betty  ground  her  teeth.  ' '  Jemima !  I  'd  like  to  give 
both  those  Dorothys  a  ticket  to  the  Fiji  Islands," 
she  said  angrily.  "They're  spoiling  our  class." 


A  Startling  Discovery  115 

"What  about  Fanny?"  Lois  inquired.  " She's 
the  one ;  evidently  she 's  miserable,  and  look  at  that 
note. ' ' 

Polly  got  back  into  bed. 

" Everybody  get  out!"  she  ordered.  "And, 
Bet,  go  find  Fanny  and  ask  her  to  come  here.  I'm 
going  to  talk  to  her.  She's  got  some  foolish  idea 
in  her  head  about  us,  and  I'm  going  to  find  out 
what  it  is. ' ' 

"What  about  the  Dorothys?"  Angela  inquired, 
lazily.  "Don't  tire  yourself  out,  Poll,  they're  not 
worth  it." 

"Oh,  the  Dorothys  don't  matter.  They'll  come 
around  in  time  if  we're  nice  to  them.  Of  course, 
my  being  a  heroine  for  the  present  won't  help 
any,"  Polly  said,  with  a  grimace. 

The  interview  with  Fanny  straightened  every- 
thing out.  Polly's  surmise  had  been  correct. 
Fanny  was  harboring  the  idea  that,  because  Polly 
and  Lois  and  Betty  did  not  keep  any  love  letters, 
they  must,  of  course,  consider  her  vain  and  foolish 
for  doing  it. 

"I  just  know  you  all  don't  like  me,"  she  said, 
mournfully. 

' '  Oh,  Fanny,  how  silly  you  are. ' '  Polly  laughed 
at  her.  "We  did  like  you,  and  still  do;  you're 
loads  of  fun;  you  play  basket  ball  wonderfully. 


116    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

•rt 

You  Ve  no  idea  what  a  chance  you  have  to  be  popu- 
lar," she  said,  earnestly.  "If  you  only  wouldn't 
think  everybody  was  trying  to  hurt  your  feelings. 
We  really  want  to  be  friends. ' ' 

It  was  a  new  experience  for  Polly  to  plead  for 
friendship,  but  she  did  it,  sincerely,  and  Fanny 
gave  in.  Lois  and  Betty  joined  them  and  a  last- 
ing peace  was  proclaimed. 

Maud  arrived  in  the  afternoon.  Mrs.  Banks 
came  with  her,  but  acting  under  Mrs.  Baird's  ad- 
vice, she  did  not  spend  the  night.  Lois,  and  Betty 
and  Polly  took  charge  of  them  both,  for  the  after- 
noon. They  showed  them  the  school  and  grounds 
and,  after  Mrs.  Banks  left,  they  introduced  Maud 
to  all  the  girls. 

Maud  met  them  with  a  calm  indifference,  and 
looked  them  over  with  appraising  eyes.  Those 
she  liked,  she  talked  to.  The  others  she  ignored. 
The  three  girls  were  completely  baffled. 

" What '11  we  do  with  her?"  Betty  demanded. 
"Does  she  always  act  like  this?"  They  were  in 
the  Assembly  Hall  before  dinner.  "Do  you  see 
anybody  you'd  like  to  meet?"  she  asked  Maud  a 
few  minutes  later. 

"No,  I  don't,"  came  the  answer,  without  hesi- 
tation. 

Lois  laughed  right  out. 


A  Startling  Discovery  117 

"Maud,  you're  too  funny  for  words.  Tell  us 
what  do  you  think  of  Seddon  Hall?" 

Maud  gazed  at  her  steadily  for  a  moment. 

"Oh,  I  like  it  no  end,"  she  said,  warmly. 
"Why?" 

"Nothing,"  Polly  hastened  to  say,  "we  just 
thought  perhaps  you  didn't." 

The  bell  rang  for  dinner. 

"You  go  down  with  your  table,"  Lois  explained. 
*  *  You  can  do  what  you  like,  after  dinner.  We  have 
a  lecture  to-night  but  it  doesn't  begin  until  eight." 

Little  did  any  of  them  guess  how  literally  Maud 
would  take  Lois '  words. 

After  dinner  the  Seniors  were  detained  by  Mrs. 
Baird  to  meet  the  lecturer  and  see  that  the  Assem- 
bly Hall  was  in  order.  This  took  up  their  time. 

The  lecture  was  already  on  its  way  when  Polly 
suddenly  nudged  Lois:  "Lo,  Maud  is  not  here," 
she  said  in  an  agonized  whisper, '  *  what  '11  we  do  ? " 

Lois  looked  carefully  all  over  the  hall.  Maud 
was  nowhere  in  sight.  "She's  probably  in  her 
room,"  she  whispered  back. 

They  sat  in  nervous  silence.  The  lecturer 
paused  in  his  discourse  for  a  minute. 

"If  I  had  a  buttonhook  and  a  piece  of  string," 
he  said,  turning  to  Mrs.  Baird,  "I  could  demon- 
strate what  I  mean." 


118    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

Polly  jumped  from  her  seat,  caught  Mrs.  Baird's 
«y«,  before  any  one  else,  and,  in  obedience  to  her 
nod,  left  the  room. 

She  hurried  over  the  Bridge  of  Sighs,  for  she 
hoped  to  get  the  articles  required,  and  discover 
Maud  without  being  absent  from  Assembly  Hall 
too  long.  The  sound  of  splashing  made  her  stop 
and  listen  half  way  down  the  corridor.  Some  one 
was  apparently  taking  a  bath  in  the  faculty  tubs. 
She  thought  for  a  minute,  and  remembered  all  the 
teachers  were  on  the  platform.  A  horrible  fear 
entered  her  mind.  A  second  later  the  bark  of  a 
dog,  followed  by  a  low  growl,  crystallized  the  fear 
to  a  dreadful  certainty. 

She  pushed  open  the  door.  Maud,  her  sleeves 
rolled  up  to  the  elbows,  was  kneeling  beside  the  tub 
scrubbing  a  little  wiry-haired  yellow  puppy,  who 
was  protesting  vigorously. 

Polly  looked  for  a  full  minute,  then  she  closed 
the  door,  and  hurried  over  to  her  room. 

When  she  got  back  to  her  seat,  Lois  whispered : 

"See  anything  of  Maud?" 

"She's  giving  a  dog  a  bath  in  the  faculty's  cor- 
ridor," Polly  answered,  struggling  to  keep  back 
the  laughter. 

'  *  Poll  I ' '  Lois '  jaw  dropped, ' '  I  don 't  believe  it, ' ' 
she  said. 


A  Startling  Discovery  118 

Polly  kn«w  that  all  the  teachers  would  go  to  the 
reception  hall  for  coffee  before  going  back  to  their 
rooms.  So  the  minute  the  lecture  was  over  she 
called  Betty  and  Lois.  "Come  with  me,  quick," 
she  said,  hurriedly,  and  led  them  back  to  the  fac- 
ulty corridor.  The  splashing  had  stopped.  She 
opened  the  door. 

* '  Jemima !  What  under  the  sun — ' '  Betty  and 
Lois  could  hardly  believe  their  eyes. 

Maud  was  still  on  her  knees,  but  the  dog  was 
out  of  the  tub ;  he  stood  shivering  on  the  blue  mat, 
while  she  rubbed  him  vigorously  with  a  towel. 
She  was  not  at  all  surprised  to  see  the  girls. 

*  *  Isn  't  he  an  old  dear  f ' '  she  asked,  casually.  * 1 1 
found  him  out  by  the  stables  to-night  when  I  was 
taking  a  walk.  He  needed  a  scrub  most  awfully. ' ' 

Polly  started  to  explain,  thought  better  of  it, 
and  turned  to  Betty.  The  events  that  followed 
were  swift  and  purposeful. 

Betty  washed  out  the  tub,  while  Lois  mopped  up 
the  water  that  the  dog  had  splashed  on  the  floor. 

Polly  took  the  astonished  Maud  with  one  arm 
and  the  very  wet  puppy  under  the  other  and  hur- 
ried them,  by  way  of  the  kitchen,  into  the  furnace 
room. 

"You  can't  have  him  in  your  room,  you  know," 
she  said  by  way  of  explanation.  " We'll  tie  him 


120    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

up  here  for  to-night,  where  he'll  be  warm,  and  I'll 
get  him  some  milk.  You  go  up  to  your  room  as 
fast  as  you  can.  The  bell  has  rung  and  you're 
supposed  to  go  to  bed  right  away.  Can  you  find 
your  way?" 

Maud's  brows  drew  together  in  a  puzzled  frown, 
but  she  didn't  protest. 

"Yes,  of  course,"  she  said,  wonderingly. 
"Good  night,  pup;  I'll  see  you  in  the  morning." 

* '  Better  hurry, ' '  Polly  warned.    * '  Good  night. ' ' 

"Good  night,"  Maud  said,  cheerfully,  as  she 
went  upstairs. 

Polly  followed  her  after  she  had  found  some 
food  for  the  dog. 

Betty  and  Lois  were  already  in  her  room.  Betty 
was  stifling  roars  of  laughter  in  one  of  Lois'  pil- 
lows, and  Lois  was  dabbing  at  her  eyes  and  bab- 
bling foolishly. 

Polly,  the  second  the  door  was  closed,  threw 
herself  down  on  her  bed  and  gave  vent  to  all  the 
pent  up  mirth  within  her. 

Finally  Betty  sat  up. 

"Oh,  Lordy!"  she  choked;  "how  rare,  how  per- 
fectly, gloriously,  joyously  rare.  Think  of  Maud 
scrubbing  a  yellow  pup  in  the  faculty's  private 
bath,  and  the  Spartan  liable  to  come  in  any  minute. 
What  a  treat  f  Oh,  Maud !  I  welcome  you. ' ' 


CHAPTER  X. 

A    SURPBISE    TO    MANY 

MUCH  to  the  disgust  of  all  the  girls,  four  days  of 
warm  sunshine  had  melted  the  snow,  spoiled  the 
coasting  and  made  rubbers  a  first  consideration. 

The  roads  were  hidden  under  inches  of  slush, 
the  gutters  were  miniature  brooks,  and  the  ground 
seemed  to  be  completely  covered  by  a  thick  coating 
of  red,  oozy  mud. 

Polly,  an  empty  basket  over  one  arm,  was  pick- 
ing her  way  gingerly  along  the  back  road  that  led 
from  the  farm. 

As  she  came  in  sight  of  the  gym,  Betty  met  her. 

"Hello,  where  are  you  going?"  she  demanded. 

"I'm  not  going,  I'm  coming,"  Polly  answered. 

"Where  from?" 

"The  cottage.  I've  just  been  to  see  McDonald; 
he's  back  from  the  hospital,  you  know,  and  Mrs. 
Baird  sent  me  over  with  some  fruit  for  him." 

"Is  he  better?" 

"Yes,  but  I  don't  believe  he'll  ever  do  any  driv- 
ing again;  he's  pretty  feeble." 

121 


122    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"(rood  old  McDonald!  It  won't  seem  right  not 
having  him  around;  he's  been  here  ever  since  I 
can  remember,  and  that's  six  long  years. " 

Betty  gave  a  sigh  to  express  great  age,  and  re- 
sumed: "Do  you  remember  the  night  you  and  he, 
between  you,  turned  off  the  power  for  the  lantern 
and  got  us  out  of  a  lecture  by  the  Spartan's 
cousin?" 

Polly  chuckled.  "McDonald  was  just  talking 
about  it.  He  said : '  Sure  an'  Miss  Polly,  I  couldn't 
be  after  spoiling  your  evening,  that  I  couldn't;  so 
when  I  got  back  to  the  power  house,  I  just  let  well 
enough  alone,  and  all  the  time  all  I  needed  to  do 
was  to  turn  on  the  switch  again. '  I  told  him  about 
Maud  and  the  dog,  and  he  laughed  till  he  cried. 
What's  doing  this  afternoon?" 

"Nothing,  absolutely  nothing,"  Betty  said  dole- 
fully. "The  coasting's  spoiled,  and  the  gym  is 
packed  with  girls." 

"Then,  that's  where  I'm  going,"  Polly  an- 
nounced, "and  you've  got  to  come  with  me.  Do 
you  realize  that  February  is  not  so  very  far  away, 
and  that  our  sub  team  is  very,  very  weak?" 

"I  do,"  Betty  answered,  solemnly.  "What  are 
you  going  to  do  about  it?" 

"Find  out  who  else  can  play.  Bet,  I  can't  lose 
either  big  game  this  year.  We've  just  got  to  build 


A  Surprise  to  Many 

up  the  team."    Polly  wa§  very 
worried." 

"Who  about?" 

" Eleanor  Trent;  she  can't  get  used  to  girls' 
rules,  and  she  makes  fouls  all  the  time." 

"Who  subs  for  her?" 

"Katherine  Welbe,  and  she's  no  earthly  good." 

"Come  on,  then;  let's  see  who's  playing  now," 
Betty  gave  in  resignedly. 

They  went  to  the  gym  and  sat  down  in  the  first 
row  in  the  gallery.  The  game  in  progress  was 
being  played  by  Freshmen  and  Sophomores  for 
the  most  part,  and  Jane  and  Phylis  seemed 
to  be  doing  most  of  it.  They  were  both  play- 
ing jumping  centers.  It  was  not  very  exciting 
to  watch;  some  one  fumbled  or  made  a  foul 
every  other  minute  and  the  whistle  sounded  incess- 
antly. 

"I  hoped  Maud  would  be  here,"  Polly  said, 
thoughtfully.  "Have  you  seen  her  today?" 

"Yes,  she's  up  watching  Lois  paint,  I  think. 
You  know  she  draws  awfully  well  herself.  Did 
you  see  the  pen  and  ink  sketch  she  did  of  her  little 
yellow  pup,  yesterday  ?  It  was  great. ' ' 

The  question  of  the  dog  had  been  solved  by  Polly. 
She  had  received  permission  from  Mrs.  Baird — 
who  had  laughed  heartily  at  the  story — for  Maud 


124    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

to  go  round  to  the  stable  and  see  him  after  school 
hours. 

"Yes,  she  showed  it  to  me,"  Polly  answered 
Betty's  question.  "Then  Lo  made  her  let  her 
show  it  to  Miss  Crosby.  But  that's  not  basket 
ball."  She  returned  to  the  original  subject 
abruptly.  "I'll  tell  you  what  I'm  going  to  do,  as 
soon  as  this  game  is  over.  I'll  ask  Miss  Stuart  if 
we  can't  have  the  gym  to  ourselves  for  practice." 

"Do  you  mean  the  big  team?"  Betty  asked. 
She  was  not  very  anxious  to  change  into  her  gym 
suit  for  so  short  a  time. 

"No;  I'm  going  to  pick  out  some  of  these  girls 
and  find  Maud  and  make  her  come.  Then  I'm  go- 
ing to  change  them  around  in  different  positions. 
I'll  bet  I'll  find  some  one  that's  good  at  some- 
thing." 

"Well,  what  do  you  want  me  to  do?"  Betty 
stood  up  ready  to  act.  ' '  Go  find  Maud  ? ' ' 

"Darling  Betty,  if  you  would  be  so  kind,"  Polly 
teased.  "I'll  be — what  is  it  Maud  says? — 'no  end 
grateful';  then  come  back  and  help  me." 

Miss  Stuart  not  only  granted  Polly  the  permis- 
sion she  asked,  but  stopped  the  game  at  once.  ' '  It 
will  give  you  more  time,"  she  said,  "and  I'm  not 
sorry  to  give  up  my  whistle  to  you." 

When  Betty  returned  with  Maud  they  began. 


A  Surprise  to  Many  125 

"I  met  Fanny  on  my  way  over,  and  I  told  her 
you  wanted  her.  I  thought  she  might  as  well  help, 
too,"  Betty  said. 

4 'Good!  she  can  watch  the  guards.  You  watch 
the  centers  and  I'll  take  the  forwards.  Maud,  I'm 
going  to  put  you  on  as  a  guard;  you're  so  tall." 

"Oh,  all  right,"  Maud  agreed,  "what  do  I  do! " 

"You  keep  the  ball  away  from  the  girls  of  the 
other  team.  Wait  till  we  start,  then  I'll  show  you. 
Polly,  a  minute  later,  blew  the  whistle  and  placed 
the  teams.  Jane  and  Phylis  were  so  excited  that 
they  nearly  forgot  to  jump  when  she  threw  the 
ball  up  between  them. 

For  two  hours  and  a  half  they  worked.  Polly 
and  Betty  and  Fanny  explaining  and  showing 
them  how,  and  now  and  again  getting  into  the  game 
themselves. 

While  they  were  struggling  with  clumsy  for- 
wards and  slow  guards,  Lois,  who  really  ought  to 
have  been  there,  was  having  a  very  important  talk 
with  Mrs.  Baird  and  Miss  Crosby. 

"Do  you  think  Polly  knows  anything  about  it!" 
Mrs.  Baird  asked.  "  I  do  hope  not. ' ' 

"She  hasn't  the  slightest  idea,"  Lois  assured 
her.  "Betty  just  told  me  she  would  be  in  the  gym 
all  afternoon,  so  there's  no  chance  of  her  seeing 
any  of  the  preparations." 


126    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Hadn't  you  better  fix  the  table?"  Miss  Crosby 
asked.  "Here's  everything  for  it,  I  think;  do  the 
rest  of  the  girls  understand?" 

"I  spoke  to  Miss  Lane  about  the  younger  chil- 
dren eating  at  the  Senior  table,"  Mrs.  Baird  said. 
"The  girls  all  know  I've  told  each  one."  Lois 
was  gathering  up  yards  of  pale  green  crepe 
paper  as  she  spoke.  "I  think  it  will  be  a  lot  of 
fun,  don't  you?  And  Polly  will  be  awfully  sur- 
prised." 

The  mystery  of  this  conversation  was  not  ex- 
plained until  dinner  time  that  night. 

Polly  and  Betty  came  in,  hot  and  tired  from 
playing  and  just  in  time  to  take  a  shower  and  dress 
before  study  hour.  It  is  true  that  Polly  might 
have  noticed  that  some  of  the  girls  were  exchang- 
ing mysterious  glances  behind  their  desks,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  fact  that  a  letter  from  Bob  claimed 
her  attention.  She  found  it  on  her  desk. 

"Dear  Polly,"  she  read. 

"Hark  to  the  joyful  news.  My  foot  is  all  well, 
and  I've  started  training.  I  haven't  forgotten 
what  you  said,  and  every  time  I  think  I'm  no  good 
I  just  say :  Cheer  up,  May's  a  long  way  off.  Wish 
me  luck. 

"Bob." 


A  Surprise  to  Many  127 

Polly  was  so  delighted  that  she  spent  the  rest 
of  study  hour  trying  to  compose  a  fitting  answer, 
and  she  was  so  anxious  to  tell  Lois  on  the  way  to 
dinner  that  she  didn't  realize  she  was  being  led 
into  the  lower  school's  dining-room,  until  she  was 
at  the  very  door. 

"Where  are  we  going?"  she  asked,  turning  sud- 
denly. 

*  *  Come  and  see ;  we  're  having  dinner  in  here  this 
evening,"  Lois  answered,  as  she  opened  the  door 
and  displayed  a  table  decorated  with  green  paper 
with  a  centerpiece  of  pale  pink  roses. 

Mrs.  Baird  was  standing  at  jone  end,  and  Miss 
Crosby  at  the  other.  The  rest  of  the  places  were 
filled  by  the  girls  who  had  been  on  the  eventful 
straw-ride. 

Lois  led  Polly,  too  surprised  to  speak,  to  her 
place  at  Mrs.  Baird 's  right,  and  there  she  found  a 
big  box  tied  with  green  ribbon  with  her  name  on  it. 
Every  one  was  looking  at  it,  and  Polly  realized  in 
a  dreamy  sort  of  way  that  she  was  expected  to  open 
it.  All  she  could  say  was : 

"Why,  er,  what — "  she  was  so  astonished. 

She  opened  the  box  and  discovered  a  bulky  cha- 
mois bag  packed  in  with  tissue  paper.  She  looked 
at  it,  wondering,  and  then  gave  an  exclamation  of 
joy,  when  she  discovered  that  it  covered  a  big 


128    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

silver  loving  cup.  On  one  side  was  engraved  the 
date  and  the  words :  * '  To  Polly,  in  grateful  recol- 
lection of  her  splendid  courage,"  and  on  the  other, 
the  names  of  all  the  girls,  Connie's  included,  who 
had  been  on  the  ride. 

Polly  looked  at  it  for  a  long  time,  without  a 
word.  Then  she  turned,  appealingly,  to  Mrs. 
Baird. 

"What  can  I  say?"  she  asked.  "I  can't  think 
of  anything  but  'thank  you.'  And  that's  so  little. 
Though  if  I  could  only  be  sure  you  knew  how  much 
I  meant  by  it,  it  would  be  enough.  Do  say  you 
know,"  she  pleaded,  looking  around  the  table,  "be- 
cause I'm  terribly  embarrassed,"  she  ended, 
laughing. 

"Very  good  speech,  Poll,"  Betty  teased  from 
her  seat  opposite,  "and  quite  long  enough;  my 
soup's  cold." 

"Betty!"  Mrs.  Baird  tried  to  look  shocked, 
and  failed,  because  she  simply  had  to  smile. 

Then  followed  the  happiest  meal  imaginable. 
At  the  end  a  big  cake,  with  Polly's  name  on  it,  was 
brought  in,  and  then  everybody  told  her  all  over 
again  how  brave  she'd  been. 

"But  I  wasn't,"  she  insisted.  "It  was  just  a 
simple  thing  to  do — nothing  that  really  took  cour- 
age. 


A  Surprise  to  Many  129 

"You  may  be  right,"  Betty  told  her,  "but  you'll 
never  find  any  one  to  agree  with  you." 

Polly  smiled.  "If  I  do,"  she  said,  "will  you 
promise  never  to  mention  it  to  me  again?" 

"Yes,"  Betty  said,  promptly;  "I  will." 

"All  right." 

After  dinner  she  led  the  way,  followed  by  all 
fifteen  girls,  straight  to  Maud.  They  found  her  in 
one  of  the  class  rooms. 

"Tell  her  just  what  I  did,"  Polly  directed. 

And  Betty  described  the  ride  in  her  most  extrav- 
agant style.  Finally  she  displayed  the  cup. 

"Now,  what  do  you  think  of  it?"  she  ended  tri- 
umphantly. 

Maud's  eyes  had  been  wide  with  interest 
throughout  the  recital.  She  looked  at  Polly  with 
perfect  understanding. 

"By  Jove !"  she  said  earnestly,  "wasn't  it  lucky 
the  hill  was  there.  Did  you  remember  to  rub  the 
horses  down  when  you  got  back,  Polly?" 

There  was  a  second's  silence. 

"Yes,  and  I  put  blankets  on  them,"  Polly  an- 
swered. Then,  turning  to  Betty:  "Do  I  win?" 
she  asked,  laughing. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   CONCERT 

"  'FLOW  gently  sweet  Afton  among  thy  green 
braes,"  caroled  Betty.  She  was  picking  out  the 
accompaniment  with  her  first  finger  on  the  Assem- 
bly Hall  piano,  one  stormy  afternoon,  for  the 
benefit  of  Angela  and  Polly.  They  were  trying  to 
compose  a  Senior  class  song  to  Seddon  Hall. 

"  'Flow  gently,  I'll  sing  thee  a  song  in  thy 
praise.'  " 

"That  ought  to  do,"  she  said,  abruptly  swing- 
ing around  on  the  piano  stool  to  face  them. 

"The  rhythm  is  good  and  I  love  the  tune." 

Polly  and  Angela  considered  for  a  moment. 

"It  is  rather  nice,"  Polly  agreed,  "if  we  can 
only  find  words  to  fit  it. ' ' 

"That's  easy,  use  the  same  idea  as  the  song," 
Betty  suggested.  Supplement  Hudson  for  Afton, 
and—" 

"Oh,  Bet,  how  can  you?"  Angela's  poetic  taste 
objected.  "Imagine  a  school  song  that  began 
'Flow  gently  sweet  Hudson.'  I  suppose  you'd  go 

130 


The  Concert  131 

on  with:  'Among  thy  sign  bordered  banks.'    It 
would  never  do,  would  it,  Polly?" 

Polly  was  laughing  too  hard  to  reply  at  once. 

"I  don't  know;  it  would  be  original,  anyway, 
Ange,"  she  said  at  last. 

"And  you  know  our  class  has  always  been  orig- 
inal," Betty  reminded  her. 

"There's  a  difference  between  originality  and 
silly  nonsense,  but  I  suppose  it's  too  much  to  ex- 
pect either  of  you  to  appreciate  it,"  Angela  said, 
with  dignity. 

Betty  played  a  loud  chord  on  the  piano. 

"Ange,  when  you're  crushing,  I  always  feel  like 
running  away,"  she  said,  timidly.  "However,  I 
still  protest  that  there's  nothing  wrong  with  telling 
the  Hudson  to  flow  gently,"  she  added.  "Of 
course,  I'm  open  to  argument." 

Angela  was  exasperated.  The  rest  of  the  Sen- 
ior class  had  appointed  these  three  to  write  the 
class  song,  over  a  week  ago.  It  had  to  be  ready 
before  the  Senior  concert.  This  was  as  far  as 
they  had  gotten. 

Christmas  vacation  began  the  next  week,  and 
the  concert  was  to  be  the  night  before.  Angela 
felt,  that  given  a  piece  of  paper,  a  pencil  and  a 
quiet  place,  she  could  compose  a  fitting  song,  but 
with  Betty  and  Polly  saying  ridiculous  things 


132    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

every  minute  to  make  her  laugh,  she  couldn't  think 
of  even  one  sensible  line. 

"You  can't  use  the  words,  gently  and  sweet,  in 
relation  to  a  mighty  river  like  the  Hudson. ' '  She 
referred  to  Betty's  question.  " You  might  as  well 
call  it  a  cute  little  brook,"  she  finished  in  dis- 
gust. 

"Why,  Angela!  I  do  believe  you're  cross." 
Polly  looked  up  in  sudden  surprise  at  the  irritable 
note  in  Angela's  voice.  "What's  the  matter?" 

"Nothing  but  a  cold  in  my  head  and  pages  of 
Virgil  translations,"  Angela  replied,  woefully. 
"You  and  Betty  won't  be  serious  for  a  minute. 
It'll  mean  I  have  to  sit  up  the  night  before  the 
concert  with  a  wet  towel  around  my  head  and 
write  a  song  that  won't  be  any  good." 

"Polly,  we  ought  to  be  ashamed.  Angela's 
right,"  Betty  said  with  sudden  seriousness. 
"From  this  minute  on,  I  promise  to  behave,"  she 
added  solemnly,  "and  agree  to  anything  you  say. 
We'll  discard  'Flow  gently  sweet  Hudson,'  as  no 
good,  and  proceed." 

"How  about  starting  'On  Majestic  Hudson's 
Banks!'  "  suggested  Polly. 

"We  can't  use  majestic,  it's  too  long  and  grand's 
a  horrid  word."  Angela  considered,  frowning. 

"Well,  leave  out  the  adjective  and  say: 


The  Concert  133 

On  Hudson's  bank 
Stands  fair  Seddon  Hall— 

"That's  all  right,  listen,  I'll  play  it." 

They  sang  the  words  to  Betty's  accompaniment. 

"Truth,  honor  and  joy 
Is  her  message  to  alL" 

Angela  added  inspired: 

"Her  daughters  are  loyal" — 

Betty  would  have  gone  on,  but  Polly  stopped 
her. 

"I  won't  agree  to  that,  every  class  song  I  ever 
heard,  said  exactly  the  same  thing,"  she  protested. 
" Let's  get  something  about  happiness." 

" Hardly  more  original."  Betty  laughed,  but 
Angela  interrupted. 

"I  know  what  Poll  means.    How's  this?" 

"There's  no  limit  to"— 

" Slang,"  Polly  said  abruptly. 

"It  isn't  really." 

"Yes,  it  is.  *  Common  usage  often  converts  the 
most  ordinary  phrase  into  slang  or  colloquialism. 
The  writer  should  take  care  to  avoid  them,'  " 
Betty  quoted.  "Try  limitless  depth." 

"All  right,  that's  better  still,"  Angela  agreed. 

"There's  a  limitless  depth 
To  her  bounteous  store." 


134    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Oh,  marvelous!"  Polly  exclaimed.  ''What 
rhymes  with  store — paw,  law,  door,  war,  more — 
More,  that 'sit." 

' '  Each  year  she  gives  of — her — her —  We  can 't 
use  bounty  again.  Give  me  a  word  somebody. ' ' 

" Riches,"  Betty  suggested. 

"Of  her  riches  the  more. 

"Oh,  that's  perfect!" 

Angela  didn't  exactly  agree,  but  she  didn't  say 
so.  Instead  she  gave  them  the  verse  she  had  just 
composed. 

"Each  daughter  has  shared 

In  the  wealth  of  her  days, 
United  we  join  now 
In  singing  her  praise. 

"Jemima,  one  of  us  has  a  brilliant  mind!"  Betty 
exclaimed.  ' '  That 's  too  good  to  forget.  Wait  till 
I  find  a  pencil. ' ' 

There  was  one  in  the  pocket  of  her  sailor  suit 
and  she  wrote  the  words  down  on  the  back  of  a 
sheet  of  music. 

"Why,  that's  three  verses,"  she  said  as  she  fin- 
ished with  a  flourish. 

"Let's  add  one  more!"  Polly  suggested,  "with 
Seddon  Hall  in  it  and  something  about  leaving  like 
this: 

"And  when  the  time  comes" — 


The  Concert  135 

"Yes,  I  know,"  Betty  interrupted  eagerly. 

"When  we  must  depart" — 

"That's  good,  but  I  like  each,  better  than  we," 
Polly  said  critically. 

"And  when  the  time  comes 
When  each  must  depart 

"Finish  it  for  us,  Ange." 

"The  memory  of  Seddon  Hall 
Will  remain  in  our  hearts," 

Angela  chanted  promptly.  "Seddon  Hall  is 
rather  too  long  for  the  line  but  I  guess  it  will 
do." 

"Of  course  it  will!"  Polly  assured  her,  as  Betty 
scribbled  hurriedly.  "We'll  claim  poetic  license. 
I'm  sure  it's  worth  it.  Let's  go  find  the  girls,  and 
read  it  to  them." 

"Where  are  they?"  Angela  inquired.  "I  think 
the  Dorothys  have  gone  to  the  village." 

"Evelin's  in  the  gym,  and  Mildred's  in  the  In- 
firmary," Betty  said.  "Where's  Lo?" 

"In  the  studio."  Polly  closed  the  lid  of  the 
piano,  preparatory  to  leaving. 

"Well,  we  can  get  her  at  any  rate,"  Betty  said. 
"Come  on." 

Fanny  was  in  the  studio  with  Lois,  when  they  got 


136    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

there.  Ever  since  Polly's  promise  of  friendship, 
she  had  been  with  one  or  the  other  of  the  three 
girls.  Even  Angela  had  taken  an  interest  in  her, 
now  and  then. 

As  the  friendship  grew,  and  the  girls  found  that 
she  " filled  the  want  that  the  year  lacked,"  as  Betty 
put  it  drolly: 

" Fanny's  so  nice  and  such  a  relief  just  because 
she  isn't  'us.'  "  By  this  she  probably  meant  that 
the  little  Southerner  would  always  see  things  dif- 
ferently from  the  three  who,  though  totally  dif- 
ferent, thought  and  looked  at  things  in  pretty  much 
the  same  way. 

" We've  finished  the  song,"  Polly  announced, 
proudly,  as  they  entered  the  studio. 

Lois  looked  up  from  her  drawing  board. 

"I've  nearly  finished  the  poster.  How  do  you 
like  it?" 

The  girls  crowded  around  her,  to  admire  a 
crayon  sketch  of  a  group  of  wakes  dressed  in  cos- 
tume, singing.  There  was  a  house  like  Ann  Hath- 
away's  cottage  in  the  background,  and  a  big  yellow 
moon  just  rising  behind  a  hill. 

They  were  delighted  with  it. 

' '  Just  right,  Lo ! "  Polly  insisted.  ' '  It  ought  to 
be  English  because  all  the  ballads  we're  going  to 
sing  are  early  English — 'Good  King  Wencelas 


The  Concert  137 

Looked  Out'  and  'God  rest  ye,  Merry  Gentlemen,' 
— and  the  rest." 

"Oh!  I  adore  those  old  things,"  Fanny  said 
eagerly.  "We  always  sing  them  down  home, 
every  year." 

"Bead  the  song,"  Lois  demanded.  "I'm  crazy 
to  hear  it." 

"Hadn't  I  better  go?"  Fanny  offered.  "I'm 
not  a  Senior." 

"Oh,  never  mind,"  Polly  said,  "you  won't  tell." 

"Just  the  same,  I'll  go.  Will  you  all  have  tea 
in  my  room  this  afternoon  ?  I  've  just  gotten  a  box 
of  cookies  from  down  home,"  she  asked  at  the  door. 

"We  will,"  Betty  replied  without  hesitation. 
"Tea  and  homemade  cookies  are  the  one  thing  I 
need  after  my  labors." 

The  others  accepted  with  equal  enthusiasm  and 
Fanny  left  to  prepare  for  them. 

When  she  had  gone,  Betty  seated  herself  on  the 
window  seat  and  referred  to  the  piece  of  music. 

' '  Here 's  the  song  entire, ' '  she  announced.  ' '  We 
all  helped  with,  but  most  of  it  is  Angela's." 

"I  knew  that,"  Lois  said  with  a  grin,  but  Betty 
ignored  the  interruption. 

"The  tune  is  'Flow  gently  Sweet  Afton'  and  the 
song  is  dedicated  to  Seddon  Hall,  with  apologies  to 
Eobert  Burns.  Here  it  is,"  and  she  read : 


138    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"On  Hudson's  bank 

Stands  fair  Seddon  Hall. 
Truth,  honor  and  joy 
Is  her  message  to  all." 

"That's  the  first  verse." 

"Go  on,"  Lois  prompted,  "I  like  it." 

"Each  daughter  has  shared 

In  the  wealth  of  her  days. 
United,  we  join 
In  singing  her  praise. 

"There's  a  limitless  depth 

To  her  bounteous  store, 
And  yearly  she  gives 
Of  her  riches  the  more. 

"And  when  the  time  comes 
When  each  must  depart, 
The  memory  of  Seddon  Hall 
Will  remain  in  our  heart." 

"Somehow  it  sounds  better  when  it's  sung," 
Betty  said,  wonderingly.  The  poem  was  not  quite 
up  to  her  expectations,  but  Lois'  enthusiasm  ban- 
ished all  doubts. 

"I  think  it's  great,  and  I  know  the  others  will 
too.  Isn't  it  a  relief  to  have  it  finished?  All  my 
poster  needs  now  is  the  printing,  and  Maud's 
promised  to  do  it  for  me  in  Old  English  Script. ' ' 

"Fine,  but  put  your  things  away,  and  let's  go 
over  to  Fannie 's  room.  Those  cakes  call. ' '  Betty 
smacked  her  lips  in  anticipation  as  she  helped  Lois 
collect  her  materials. 


The  Concert  139 

Fanny  was  singing  as  they  entered  Junior  Man- 
sions. It  was  an  old  Negro  melody,  and  the  croon- 
ing notes  were  soft  and  beautiful. 

"Why  I  didn't  know  Fanny  could  sing,"  Polly 
exclaimed  in  surprise,  and  the  rest  stopped  to 
listen. 

"  'Swing  low,  sweet  chariot — I'se  comin'  for  to 
carry  you  home '  ' ' — 

The  music  ended  abruptly,  and  they  heard  the 
rattle  of  the  cups. 

"Why  didn't  you  ever  tell  us  you  had  a  beauti- 
ful voice?"  demanded  Betty  between  cookies,  a 
few  minutes  later.  "You  ought  to  be  studying." 

"The  very  idea!"  Fanny  laughed  in  reply. 

"Hasn't  anybody  ever  told  you  you  had  be- 
fore ? ' '  Lois  asked  wonderingly.  But  Fanny  shook 
her  head. 

"I  reckon  they  none  of  them  ever  had  time  to 
pay 'any  attention  to  me,"  she  said.  "They  were 
always  busy  listening  to  my  cousin. ' ' 

"Which  cousin?"  Polly  inquired. 

"Caroline,"  Fanny  said.  "We  were  brought 
up  together,  and  when  we  were  little,  Mammy 
Jones  used  to  say:  'Honey,  the  only  way  for 
to  do,  if  you  wants  to  sing,  is  to  swaller  a  hummin ' 
bird. '  One  day  Caroline  came  in  and  said '  she  had 
swallowed  one.'  Well,  later,  she  did  develop  a 


140    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

lovely  voice  you  know,  and  poor  mammy  believed 
till  the  day  she  died  that  'Miss  Carrie  had  done 
swallered  a  hummin'  bird.'  "  The  girls  were  de- 
lighted. 

"How  rare,"  Betty  chuckled. 

1 '  Bless  her  old  heart, ' '  Polly  added.  ' '  Where 's 
Caroline  now?" 

"In  Washington.  She's  studying  both  voice 
and  piano." 

"I  don't  believe  her  voice  is  any  sweeter  than 
yours,"  Lois  insisted.  Fanny  shook  her  head. 

"Maybe  not,  but  everybody  thinks  so,  so  there 
you  are.  Carrie  just  naturally  does  get  ahead  of 
me  in  everything.  I  told  you  she  cut  me  out  with 
one  of  my  beaux,"  she  added,  laughing  at  herself. 
"A  thing  she  could  never  have  done  two  months 
before." 

Three  days  later  the  discovery  of  Fannie 's  voice 
proved  of  much  more  importance  than  any  of  the 
girls  had  foreseen.  Evelin  Hatfield,  who  had  a 
very  clear  soprano  voice,  and  who  had  been  cast 
for  the  solo  parts  in  the  concert,  came  down  with 
tonsilitis  and  had  to  go  to  the  Infirmary.  The 
Seniors  met  in  English  room  to  discuss  finding  a 
substitute,  after  Miss  King  had  assured  them  that 
there  was  no  chance  of  Evelin 's  immediate  re- 
covery. 


The  Concert  141 

"Of  course  it's  a  Senior  concert,  and  as  long 
as  I  can  remember  no  one  has  ever  helped  them 
out,  but  our  class  is  hopeless,"  Lois  said. 
"Evelin's  was  the  only  real  voice,  except  yours, 
Ange,  and  you're  already  cast  for  the  King.  Do 
you  think  you  could  take  the  page's  part  in  'Good 
King  Wenceslas,'  Dot?"  she  asked  Dorothy  Lan- 
sing. 

"Goodness!  No!  Why,  I'd  be  scared  to 
death,"  she  answered  hastily. 

"Then  there's  nothing  to  do,  but  to  ask  one 
of  the  Juniors  to  help  us,"  Polly  said  decidedly. 
"She  could  leave  the  platform  when  we  sang  our 
song. ' ' 

The  rest  agreed.    "But  who?"  Helen  inquired. 

"Fanny  Gerard  has  a  sweet  voice,  and  I  know 
she  knows  the  carols,"  Betty  said,  "and  she's  a 
Junior." 

There  was  a  little  discussion  before  Fanny  was 
selected,  but  in  the  end  Betty  carried  her  point. 

The  few  days  before  the  musical  were  taken  up 
with  rehearsals.  The  party  was  to  be  very  in- 
formal— just  something  to  do  on  the  last  night. 
The  Seniors  sang  carols  in  costumes  and  later  on 
served  light  refreshments. 

Fanny  was  delighted  to  sing.  The  day  of  the 
concert  she  went  out  with  Polly  and  Lois  to  get 


142    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

evergreen  branches  to  decorate  the  hall  with,  and 
between  them  they  turned  the  platform  into  a  veri- 
table forest. 

By  seven-thirty  the  school  was  assembled,  and  at 
a  quarter  to  eight  the  Seniors  entered.  They 
marched  around  the  room  and  up  to  the  platform 
singing:  "God  rest  ye,  Merry  Gentlemen.'* 
Fanny's  clear  voice  was  so  above  the  others  that 
the  girls  and  teachers  began  to  whisper  among 
themselves.  There  was  a  lull  of  expectancy  as 
they  began  * '  Good  King  Wenceslas  looked  out  on 
the  feast  of  Stephan." 

Angela,  who  was  dressed  as  the  King,  sang  her 
part: 

"Haste  thee,  page,  and  stand  by  me, 

If  thou  knowest  it  telling, 
Yonder  peasant,  who  is  he? 

Where,  and  what,  his  dwelling?" 

With  so  much  expression  that  the  deficiency  of 
her  voice  was  overlooked. 

But  it  was  Fanny,  in  her  green  page  suit  that 
was  to  score  the  triumph  of  the  evening.  She 
stepped  out  a  little  from  the  others,  when  her  turn 
came  to  answer  the  King. 

"Sire,  he  lives  a  good  league  hence — 

Underneath  the  mountain. 
Right  beyond  the  forest  fence 
By  Saint  Agnes'  fountain." 


The  Concert  143 

Her  notes  were  full  and  beautiful,  and  the  sym- 
pathetic quality  of  her  voice  enchanted  her  audi- 
ence. They  broke  out  into  enthusiastic  applause. 

"I  told  you  so,"  Betty  whispered  as  Fanny 
bowed  her  thanks. 

The  rest  of  the  evening  may  be  truly  said  to 
have  belonged  to  Fanny.  Even  the  Seniors'  class 
song  was  hurriedly  applauded,  so  that  she  might 
return  to  the  platform. 

The  girls  made  her  sit  down  at  the  piano  when 
the  carols  were  over,  and  sing  them  song  after 
song. 

At  nine  o'clock,  Betty  insisted  that  she  stop 
long  enough  to  have  some  refreshments. 

"You  all  don't  really  think  I  can  sing,  do  you?" 
she  asked  seriously,  when  they  had  joined  Polly 
and  Lois  and  Angela. 

"Of  course  we  do,"  everybody  told  her  with 
enthusiasm. 

"You've  swallowed  a  bird  all  right,"  Betty 
laughed. 

Fanny  shook  her  head.  So  much  praise  was 
embarrassing. 

"Maybe  I  did,"  she  said  shyly,  "but  it  was  prob- 
ably nothing  but  a  poor  no  account  sparrow." 


CHAPTER  XII 

CHRISTMAS 

THE  two-seated  sleigh  jingled  merrily  up  the 
drive  and  stopped  at  the  carriage  block.  Polly 
and  Lois  jumped  out  and  turned  to  help  Mrs. 
Farwell. 

"Home  again,"  Polly  exclaimed,  joyfully  look- 
ing around  her  with  pardonable  pride,  for  the 
splendid  old  house  they  were  about  to  enter  was 
her  own,  and  every  corner  of  it  held  the  dearest 
of  memories. 

Lois  and  her  mother  were  no  less  delighted  to 
return  to  it.  It  had  been  Uncle  Roddy's  sugges- 
tion that  they  all  spend  Christmas  there,  and  every 
one  had  heartily  agreed  to  it. 

"How  splendid  it  looks  in  the  snow,  doesn't  it?" 
Mrs.  Farwell  asked.  "My,  I  shall  be  glad  to  see 
an  open  fire-place.  I  hope  Sarah  has  started  a  fire 
in  the  drawing-room.  Just  put  the  bags  in  the 
hall,  Tim,"  she  added,  to  the  old  coachman  who 
was  busy  unloading  the  back  of  the  sleigh.  He 
nodded  respectfully. 

144 


Christmas  145 

' '  Where  's  Sandy  f ' '  Polly  demanded,  < < I  thought 
he'd  be  here  to  meet  me,  surely." 

Tim  shook  his  head.  "He's  gettin'  old,  Miss 
Polly,"  he  said.  "And  he  spends  most  of  his 
time  lying  before  the  fire." 

Sandy  was  Polly's  beautiful  big  collie.  She 
found  him  as  Tim  had  said,  a  few  minutes  later, 
after  Sarah  had  opened  the  door  for  them  and 
ushered  them  in  with  a  hearty  welcome.  He  was 
lying  on  the  hearth  rug  in  the  library.  And  as  he 
heard  Polly  tip-toe  in,  he  got  up  stiffly  and  held 
out  his  paw. 

"Darling  old  fellow,"  Polly  said,  dropping  to 
her  knees  beside  him,  and  patting  his  silky  head. 

Sandy  licked  her  hand  affectionately  and  made 
as  great  a  fuss  about  her,  as  his  rheumatic  old 
joints  would  permit.  Then  Lois  claimed  her  and 
together  they  roamed  over  the  house,  enjoying  the 
spacious  rooms  and  reveling  in  the  blazing  wood 
fires. 

Bob  and  Jim  arrived  the  next  day  with  Dr. 
Farwell  and  Uncle  Roddy.  The  sleigh  was  not 
large  enough  for  Polly  and  Lois  to  go  and  meet 
them.  So,  to  make  up  for  it,  Bob  and  Polly 
hitched  Banker,  the  pony,  to  the  cutter,  later  in 
the  afternoon,  and  drove  out  into  the  woods  in 
search  of  a  Christmas  tree. 


146    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Get  a  nice  bushy  one,"  Lois  called  after  them, 
as  they  drove  off.  "And  don't  get  lost." 

Bob  tucked  the  rug  around  Polly's  feet.  "We 
won't,"  he  called  back.  "Which  direction?"  he 
inquired. 

''Down  the  hill  and  take  the  first  turn  to  the 
right, ' '  Polly  told  him.  ' '  Jemima !  but  it 's  cold. ' ' 
And  she  snuggled  down  in  her  furs.  "I  can't  be- 
lieve this  is  Christmas  Eve." 

"Neither  can  I,"  Bob  said.  "What's  this  I 
hear  about  you  and  Lois  going  to  visit  some  one 
for  New  Year's?" 

"We're  going  to  Fanny  Gerard's,"  Polly  an- 
swered. "Won't  it  be  fun?  She  lives  in  South 
Carolina.  We're  going  specially  for  her  New 
Year's  dance.  It's  the  event  of  the  season — and 
I  'm  so  excited.  I  was  afraid  when  the  letter  came, 
Aunt  Kate  wouldn't  let  us  go — their  being  strang- 
ers— and  it's  so  far,  but  it  seems  your  darling 
father  knew  all  about  old  Mr.  Gerard  and  his 
sister,  so  it  was  all  right,  and  we  leave  December 
thirtieth — taking  with  us  our  very  best  clothes," 
she  added,  smiling. 

There  was  something  like  disapproval  in  Bob's 
patient  silence. 

"Well,  I  hop^e  you  have  a  good  time,'-'  he  said, 
finally.  "But  what  you  want  to  leave  this  place 


They  cut  it  down,  dragged  it  to  the  sleigh  and  bore 
it  home  in  triumph.  Page  147 


Christmas  147 

for  to  go  South  is  more  than  I  can  see.  It's  just 
like  girls.  They'd  cross  the  country  to  dance.  I 
think  it's  a  crazy  idea,  if  you  ask  me,"  he  added 
with  vehemence. 

"But  I  didn't,  Bobby,"  Polly  answered  sweetly. 
6 '  Oh,  there 's  a  wonderful  tree !  It 's  just  the  right 
size  and  it's  bushy,"  she  exclaimed  suddenly. 
1  'Do  let's  get  it." 

Bob  pulled  Banker  in,  and  fumbled  under  the 
seat  for  the  ax.  But  when  they  got  out  Polly 
found  she  had  lost  sight  of  the  tree  and  they  had 
to  wade  around  in  the  snow  up  to  their  knees 
for  fully  ten  minutes  before  they  found  another 
that  suited  them.  They  cut  it  down,  dragged  it  to 
the  sleigh  and  bore  it  home  in  triumph.  It  was 
dark  long  before  they  reached  the  house,  and  they 
found  everybody  dressed  for  dinner  and  waiting 
for  them  in  the  library. 

"Oh,  we've  had  a  glorious  ride!"  Polly  said 
brightly.  Her  cheeks  were  whipped  red  from  the 
wind  and  her  eyes  sparkled. 

"Is  the  tree  bushy  enough  for  you,  Lol"  Bob 
asked. 

"Yes,  it's  a  beauty,"  Lois  said,  examining  it. 

"You  two  should  have  been  with  us,"  Polly  said, 
speaking  to  Jim,  "just  to  have  seen  Bobby 
work. ' ' 


148    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"  While  Polly  told  me  how  to  do  it,"  Bob  said, 
teasingly.  " You'd  think,  to  hear  her  talk,  she'd 
cut  down  trees  all  her  life.  When  she  found  that 
I  wasn't  paying  any  attention  to  her,  she  got  back 
in  the  sleigh  and  recited  'Woodman  Spare  That 
Tree'  from  the  depths  of  the  nice  warm  robes 
while  I  froze." 

"Bob,"  said  Polly,  indignantly,  "if  you'll  let  me 
pass,  I'd  like  to  go  upstairs  and  dress  for  din- 
ner." 

That  evening,  they  decorated  the  tree,  that  is, 
Lois  and  Jim  did  most  of  it  while  Polly  and  Bob 
rested  in  two  big  chairs  before  the  fire,  with  Sandy 
between  them,  and  made  suggestions. 

"  Jim,  that  tinsel  would  look  much  better  going 
around  the  tree  instead  of  up  and  down,"  Bob 
said  critically. 

Jim,  who  was  upon  a  stepladder,  went  on  trim- 
ming, while  Lois  came  to  his  defense. 

"Bob,  do  you  know  what  tinsel  is  supposed  to 
represent,"  she  asked. 

"Isn't  supposed  to  represent  anything,"  Bob 
said  calmly. 

Lois  looked  at  Jim  in  sympathetic  understand- 
ing. "You  see,  he  doesn't  know,"  she  said. 
"Tinsel,  dear  brother,  is  supposed  to  represent 
the  silver  rays  of  the  stars,"  she  explained. 


Christmas  149 

"Oh,  get  out,"  Bob  objected.  "It's  no  such 
thing.  Anyway,  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  put- 
ting it  around  the  tree. ' ' 

"Robert,  you  grieve  me."  Jim  shook  his  head 
mournfully.  ' '  You  a  college  man.  How  could  the 
rays  of  the  stars  go  around  a  tree  ?  I  ask  it  in  all 
seriousness." 

Bob  was  fairly  caught.  Even  Polly  laughed  at 
him.  Mrs.  Farwell  came  in  just  in  time  to  save 
him  from  more  teasing. 

"Oh,  how  beautiful  the  tree  looks,"  she  said. 
"I  wouldn't  put  another  thing  on  it,  it's  quite  per- 
fect as  it  is.  Come  into  the  other  room  and  sing 
some  carols,  and  then  we  must  all  hang  up  our 
stockings  and  go  to  bed ;  to-morrow  will  be  a  busy 
day." 

"What  are  we  going  to  do  besides  eat  dinner?" 
Uncle  Roddy  demanded  from  the  other  room. 

"Why,  Sarah  is  packing  some  baskets  for  Polly 
to  take  to  some  of  the  poor  families  in  the  village," 
Mrs.  Farwell  explained,  "and  of  course,  we'll  all 
go  to  church  in  the  morning.  In  the  afternoon 
I  suppose — " 

"Now,  Kate,"  interrupted  the  Doctor,  laughing, 
"In  the  afternoon  do  let  us  digest  our  dinner. " 

After  they  had  all  sung  the  carols  around  the 
old  tinkly  piano,  they  wished  one  another  a  Merry 


150    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

Christmas,  found  their  candles  on  the  big  table 
in  the  hall — for  there  were  no  electric  lights  in 
Polly's  house — and  went  upstairs. 

"Come  along  old  man,"  Polly  said  to  Sandy. 
"Do  you  want  some  help?"  she  asked,  as  the  old 
dog  prepared  to  follow  her.  He  always  slept  on 
the  rug  beside  her  bed. 

"How  feeble  he  is,"  Bob  said.  "He  doesn't 
act  a  bit  well,  Poll." 

"It's  old  age,  I'm  afraid,"  Polly  replied,  sadly. 
"He's  over  fourteen,  you  know." 

"  I  'm  going  to  carry  him  up,  "Bob  said.  * '  I  be- 
lieve it  hurts  him  to  take  these  steps. ' '  He  picked 
up  Sandy  ever  so  gently  and  carried  him  to  Polly's 
room.  "Good  night  again,"  he  said  at  the  door, 
"and  Merry  Christmas." 

But  all  the  wishes  in  the  world  cannot  make  hap- 
piness. That  Christmas  Day  was  far  from  merry 
for  either  Polly  or  Bob. 

About  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  Polly  awoke 
with  a  start.  Some  one  was  groaning.  As  she 
sat  up  in  bed  and  tried  to  rub  the  sleep  from  her 
eyes,  she  felt  something  touch  her  arm.  It  was 
Sandy's  paw. 

After  groping  about  in  the  dark  she  found  the 
matches  and  lighted  her  candle,  and  jumped  out  on 
the  floor. 


Christmas  151 

''What  is  it,  boy?''  she  asked,  resting  his  head 
in  her  lap. 

Sandy  rolled  his  eyes,  as  dogs  do  when  they  are 
in  pain  and  the  agonized  appeal  in  them  made  a 
lump  rise  in  Polly's  throat. 

"Dear  old  fellow,  what  is  it?"  she  said,  gently. 
"What  can  I  do  for  you?"  She  was  seized  with 
sudden  fright.  It  seemed  as  if  she  alone  was 
awake  in  all  that  black,  still  night.  She  called 
Lois  two  or  three  times  but  got  no  reply.  She 
went  to  the  door  and  listened.  Her  friend's 
regular  breathing  came  to  her  faintly  from  the 
other  room. 

' '  What  can  I  do  ? "  she  whispered.  ' '  Oh,  Sandy 
boy,  don't,"  she  pleaded  as  the  dog  groaned  again. 

A  minute  later,  she  was  hurrying  into  her 
clothes.  When  she  was  dressed  she  tip-toed  down 
the  hall  and  knocked  at  the  farthest  door.  '  *  Bob, ' ' 
she  called  softly. 

"Yes,"  came  the  instant  reply.  "What  is  it?" 
Fortunately  the  wind  had  rattled  his  shade,  so 
that  the  noise  had  awakened  him  a  few  minutes 
before. 

"Get  up,"  Polly  called.  "Sandy's  awfully  sick 
and  I'm  frightened." 

Bob  hurried  into  his  things  with  full  speed  and 
joined  her.  Together  they  carried  the  dog  into 


152    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

the  morning  room  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and 
put  him  on  the  lounge.  Bob  lit  the  lamp. 

"He  can't  breathe,"  Polly  said  desperately. 
' '  Oh,  Bob,  what  can  we  do  ?  " 

Bob  went  for  water  and  moistened  the  dog's 
tongue  while  Polly  held  his  head  in  her  arms. 
His  breathing  grew  more  labored. 

"Could  Tim  do  anything?"  Bob  suggested,  for- 
lornly. He  knew  that  he  couldn't,  but  it  was  ter- 
rible to  just  watch  the  dog  suffer. 

Polly  shook  her  head.  She  didn't  dare  trust 
herself  to  speak.  After  a  little  while  the  breathing 
grew  quieter.  Sandy  turned  his  head  and  licked 
Polly's  hand.  Then  quite  suddenly  it  stopped — 
his  body  trembled  and  he  lay  still  in  her  arms. 

Bob  put  his  hand  on  her  shoulder. 

"Better  leave  him,  Poll,"  he  said  huskily. 

Polly  looked  up  at  him.  It  was  a  second  before 
she  understood. 

"Bob,  he's  not—  Oh,  Sandy!  You've  left  me," 
she  sobbed,  and  buried  her  head  in  his  silky  coat. 

All  Christmas  day  Polly  tried  to  keep  up  her 
spirits  and  not  spoil  the  others '  pleasure,  but  her 
heart  had  a  dull,  lonely  ache  that  wouldn't  go 
away.  Any  one  who  has  loved  and  lost  a  faith- 
ful dog  understands.  And  Polly  had  loved  Sandy 
from  his  first  puppy  days. 


Christmas  153 

All  the  family  did  their  best  to  cheer  her  up, 
but  the  day  was  a  woeful  failure.  Uncle  Eoddy 
and  Bob  were  the  only  ones  who  understood  her 
grief,  and  their  own  was  so  great  that  they  could 
find  no  words  of  comfort. 

After  dinner  she  disappeared.  She  knew  that 
all  the  afternoon  callers  would  be  dropping  in  to 
exchange  greetings,  and  she  could  not  bear  the 
thought  of  talking  to  them. 

Bob  found  her  about  four  o'clock,  curled  up  on 
her  favorite  window  seat,  at  the  head  of  the  stairs. 
He  had  been  despatched  by  his  mother  to  tell  her 
that  some  of  her  friends  were  in  the  drawing- 
room. 

"If  she  doesn't  want  to  come  don't  urge  her," 
she  had  warned  him.  li  I  '11  make  some  excuse. ' ' 

"Bobby,  I  just  can't,"  Polly  said  when  he  had 
told  her.  "My  eyes  are  all  swollen  and  I've  such 
a  headache." 

"What  you  need  is  air,"  Bob  said  decidedly. 
' '  Go  get  your  coat  and  hat,  and  we  '11  fly  off  with 
Banker  for  a  little  ride.  Come  on,  Poll,"  he 
coaxed,  "it  will  do  you  loads  of  good." 

Polly  gave  in  reluctantly. 

"Where  are  we  going?"  she  asked  when  they 
were  in  the  sleigh. 

"Never  mind,  I've  a  scheme,"  Bob  told  her. 


154    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

''Shut  your  eyes."  He  headed  the  pony  toward 
the  bay.  The  cold  air  acted  as  a  tonic  on  Polly. 
By  the  time  they  stopped  before  an  old  tumble 
down  fisherman's  hut,  she  was  quite  herself  again. 

"Why,  it's  Uncle  Cy's  place!"  she  exclaimed. 
"Bobby,  how  did  you  ever  think  of  him?" 

They  pushed  open  the  door,  without  knocking, 
and  entered  the  one  little  room  that  served  for 
all  purposes. 

Uncle  Cy,  was  one  of  Polly's  earliest  and  best 
of  friends;  he  was  an  old  fisherman.  They  had 
spent  many  long,  happy  days  together,  when  she 
was  a  little  girl.  He  welcomed  her  heartily. 

* '  Why,  Miss  Polly.  I  was  beginning  to  think  I  'd 
have  to  go  one  Christmas  without  a  word  from 
you,"  he  said.  "How  are  you?  You're  getting 
mighty  handsome,"  he  teased  "and  I'm  sorry  to 
see  it.  I  never  did  hold  with  handsome  women. 
'Handsome  is  as  handsome  does,'  I  always  say," 
he  added  with  a  wink.  ' '  And  you,  Mr.  Bob,  how  do 
you  do  again?  That  basket  you  brought  me  this 
morning  was  mighty  good,"  he  said  with  a  chuckle. 

"We're  just  here  for  a  second,"  Polly  explained. 
"Banker's  freezing  outside.  Have  you  had  a 
Merry  Christmas?"  she  asked  brightly.  No  one 
could  be  unhappy  long  under  the  spell  of  Uncle 
Cy's  genial  smile. 


Christmas  155 

"Fair  to  middling,"  the  old  man  answered, 
contentedly.  "Have  a  seat,"  he  offered. 

They  stayed  chatting  for  a  few  minutes  more, 
and  then  returned  to  the  sleigh. 

"The  old  darling,"  Polly  laughed,  "he  hasn't 
changed  a  bit. ' ' 

When  they  reached  home,  they  stole  in  the  back 
way.  One  of  Lois7  merry  laughs  greeted  them  as 
they  entered. 

"Jimmy,  you  wretch,"  they  heard  her  cry. 

"What's  the  matter,  Lo?"  Bob  inquired  from 
the  door  of  the  drawing-room. 

Lois  looked  up  in  confusion. 

"Jim  kissed  me  under  the  mistletoe,"  she  said, 
"after  I'd  expressly  told  him  not  to." 

Polly  joined  in  the  laugh  that  followed. 

"Bobby,"  she  said  as  they  were  taking  off  their 
coats  in  the  hall,  "I'm  ashamed  of  being  such  a 
baby  to-day.  I  acted  as  if  I  were  eight  years 
old." 

Bob  pulled  a  big  wadded  handkerchief  out  of 
one  of  his  pockets.  "Don't  apologize,  Poll,"  he 
said.  "Look  at  this.  I  wasn't  so  very  grown  up 
myself."  Then  he  added,  gently,  "Good  old 
Sandy." 


CHAPTEE  XIII 

POLLY'S  LETTER 

POLLY  and  Lois  left  for  Fanny's  the  following 
Thursday  and  arrived  the  day  before  the  dance. 
A  description  of  their  good  time  can  best  be  gotten 
by  reading  Polly's  letter  to  Betty,  which  was  writ- 
ten a  few  days  after : 

"Dearest  Betty: 

"What  a  shame  you  couldn't  be  here.  I  know 
it's  mean  to  tell  you,  but  you've  really  missed  the 
funniest  kind  of  a  time. 

"I  do  hope  your  mother  is  much  better  by  now. 
Please  give  her  both  Lois'  and  my  love. 

"And  now  to  tell  you  all  about  the  dance — as  I 
promised.  So  many  things  happened  it's  hard  to 
know  where  to  begin.  The  first  day  I  guess — 

"Well,  we  arrived  at  this  adorable  little  town 
about  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  I  thought 
when  I  looked  out  of  our  window  as  the  train 
pulled  in,  that  I  was  dreaming  and  it  was  a  story 
book  village.  The  sun  was  shining  and  it  was  as 

156 


Polly's  Letter  157 

warm  as  toast.  I  don't  know  why  the  fact  that 
the  grass  was  green  made  such  an  impression  on 
me,  but  it  did.  We  Ve  had  so  much  snow  up  home 
that  I  couldn't  believe  there  could  be  summer  any- 
where else. 

"Is  this  lengthy  description  boring  you,  Betty 
dear?  What  is  it  Miss  Porter  always  says, 
*  Create  your  atmosphere  first,  before  you  begin 
your  story.'  That's  what  I'm  doing  and  you'll 
just  have  to  be  patient  while  I  create  a  little  longer. 
I  simply  must  tell  you  about  the  funny  little  cabins. 
They're  all  over  the  place.  A  relic  from  the  days 
of  slavery,  I  suppose,  and  they're  so  little — just  a 
room  or  two — that  you  gasp  when  you  see  large 
families  standing  out  in  front  of  them.  It's  be- 
yond me  to  figure  out  how  they  can  all  go  to  sleep 
at  once. 

"Lois  suggests  that  they  take  turns  and  I  think 
she  must  be  right.  The  little  pickaninnies  are  too 
sweet  for  words;  they  have  innumerable  little 
braids  sticking  out  all  over  their  heads,  and  their 
big  black  eyes  just  dance  with  impishness.  You  'd 
love  them. 

"Fanny  lives  in  a  most  wonderful  story  book 
house.  It's  red  brick  that's  really  pink.  Oh,  you 
know  what  I  mean !  And  it's  trimmed  with  white. 
Big  colonial  pillars  up  the  front,  and  a  lot  of  little 


158    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

balconies  jut  out  where  you  least  expect  them.  I 
have  one  out  of  my  window,  and  every  night  I  play 
Juliet  to  an  imaginary  Romeo  in  the  rose  garden 
below.  Lo  insists  I  am  getting  sentimental,  but 
it's  only  the  effect  of  the  'Sunny  South/  whicli 
brings  me,  no  matter  how  indirectly  to  the  boys 
we  Ve  met — and  the  dance ! 

"Oh,  Bet,  such  a  lark !  There  were  over  a  hun- 
dred people — both  old  and  young,  and  even  then 
the  ballroom — oh,  yes,  the  Gerards  have  a  ball- 
room— looked  half  empty.  "We  danced  from  ten 
o'clock  until  four  in  the  morning,  and  went  for  a 
picnic  the  next  day.  Imagine ! 

"Fanny  looked  beautiful.  She  wore  a  lovely 
white  dress  without  a  touch  of  color  on  it,  and  it 
just  set  off  her  wonderful  dark  hair  to  perfection. 
The  cousin,  Caroline  Gerard,  is  here  at  the  house, 
too.  You  know,  the  one  Fanny  said  could  sing, 
and  who  'just  naturally  gets  ahead  of  her. '  Well ! 
Intermission  of  four  minutes. 

"No  use,  I've  been  struggling  with  my  better 
self,  but  I  can't  resist  the  temptation  to  tell  you 
just  what  Lo  and  I  think  of  her.  Betty,  she's 
horrid.  I  mean  it!  She's  so  conceited  and  sure 
of  herself  and  without  the  least  reason  to  be.  She 
looks  a  lot  like  Fanny,  but  with  a  difference. 
She's  larger  and  much  more  definite,  if  you  know 


Polly's  Letter  159 

what  I  mean,  and  she  walks  into  a  room  with  a 
*  Well,  here  I  come '  sort  of  an  air.  She  completely 
puts  Fanny  in  the  background.  I'll  tell  you  later, 
how  Lo  and  I  pulled  her  out  again — Fanny  I 
mean — but  now,  I'll  go  back  to  the  dance. 

"Caroline  was  there  of  course.  She  wore  a 
wonderful  red  gown  and  carried  a  big  yellow 
ostrich  fan.  She  looked  like  a  Spanish  dancer. 
It  took  me  all  evening  to  get  used  to  her.  The 
combination  was  rather  startling.  Lo,  in  spite  of 
her  dislike,  wanted  to  paint  her.  7  did  not — jeal- 
ousy, on  my  part  of  course — for  every  time  she 
came  near  me,  she  killed  my  lovely  green  frock. 
You  see,  before  I  came  down  stairs,  I  looked  in 
the  glass  and  I  rather  fancied  that  I  looked  quite 
nice,  but,  I  turned  pale  by  comparison,  and  nat- 
urally I  didn't  like  it.  Are  you  getting  curious 
about  Lois?  I  hope  so,  I'm  saving  her  on  pur- 
pose for  the  end.  Betty,  she  was  the  belle  of  the 
ball.  You  can't,  no,  not  even  with  your  imagina- 
tion picture  her.  She  looked  like  some  lovely 
fairy.  But  you  know  that  dreamy  style  of  hers. 
Well,  just  try  and  see  her  in  your  mind — draped  in 
yards  and  yards  of  pale  yellow  chiffon,  with 
touches  of  blue  here  and  there, — and  you'll  under- 
stand the  effect.  Her  gown  was  just  nothing  but 
graceful  soft  folds.  I  tell  you  everybody  went 


160    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

quite  mad  about  her,  and  you  know  how  beautifully 
she  dances. — Excuse  me,  that's  the  luncheon  gong 
— I'll  finish  later. 

" Ten  P.M. 
" Hello,  again  Bet: 

"It's  late  and  I'm  oh,  so  sleepy,  but  I  must  go 
on.  Let's  see  where  was  I?  Oh,  yes,  clothes. 
But  poor  dear  you  must  feel  as  if  you  'd  been  read- 
ing a  fashion  book,  so  I'll  skip  the  rest  of  the 
dresses,  which  really  didn't  amount  to  anything, 
and  go  on  with  the  dance. 

"Of  course  we  met  so  many  people  that  I  can't 
even  remember  their  names,  but  some  of  my  dances 
stand  out  rather  vividly  in  my  mind.  Do  you 
know,  Southern  boys  can  say  more  pretty  things 
in  one  minute  than  our  boys  up  North  can  in  a 
whole  month.  Don't  think  I  consider  it  a  virtue, 
far  from  it.  I  think  they're  awfully  silly — on  top. 
Of  course  underneath  they're  splendid — just  like 
boys  anywhere  else — but  certainly  they  are  more 
fun  to  talk  to. 

"I  danced  the  first  dance  with  Fanny's  'Jack.' 
He's  quite  as  handsome  as  she  said  and  he  came 
to  the  dance  in  his  uniform.  After  the  music  had 
stopped  we  went  out  in  the  rose  garden  for  a 
walk. 

"Betty,  what  can  a  girl  say,  when  a  boy  tells 


Polly's  Letter  161 

her  she  is  fit  company  for  roses  and  moonlight? 
If  there  is  a  proper  answer,  I  certainly  couldn't 
think  of  it,  at  the  time  and  I  did  the  very  last  thing 
I  should  have  done — I  laughed — and  I  went  on 
laughing  as  he  waxed  more  eloquent.  Finally  I 
said: 

"  'Oh,  for  pity's  sake,  do  stop  and  talk  sense.' 
He  looked  as  if  he  had  never  heard  the  word. 

"  'You're  very  hard  to  please,'  he  said  in 
oh,  such  offended  tones.  'What  shall  we  talk 
about?' 

"  'Why  not  Fanny,'  I  suggested;  'she's  the  only 
subject  we  have  in  common,  except  flowers  and 
birds  and  moonlight,  and  we  seem  to  have  ex- 
hausted those.' 

"  'But  I'm  very  fond  of  Fanny!'  he  said  quite 
feelingly.  I  told  him  I  was  too  and  that  we  ought 
to  make  the  best  of  it.  I  explained  how  popular 
she  was  at  school,  and  how  she'd  made  the  team, 
and  raved  at  great  length  over  her  voice.  And 
do  you  know  what  that  boy  did?  When  I  stopped 
for  breath  he  stood  stock  still  in  the  middle  of  the 
path  and  looked  at  me,  then  he  whistled. 

"  'Well,  I'll  be  darned.'  It  was  the  first  nat- 
ural thing  I'd  heard  him  say.  'I  never  met  a  girl 
before  in  all  my  life  that  would  talk  that  way  about 
even  her  best  friend,'  he  said. 


162     Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"The  music  started  then,  and  we  had  to  hurry 
back — but,  Bet,  what  do  you  suppose  he  meant  ? 

"Lois  evidently  had  much  the  same  trouble  un- 
derstanding her  partners.  I  heard  her  say — 'bow 
absurd'  during  supper,  and  it  sounded  so  like  you 
that  I  was  startled  for  a  second. 

1 '  Oh  dear,  I  almost  forgot  to  tell  you  the  funniest 
thing  that  happened  through  the  whole  evening. 
Poor  Fanny,  being  hostess,  had  to  dance  with  all 
the  clumsy,  unattractive  boys  that  were  there,  and 
every  time  I  saw  her,  she  seemed  to  be  having  a 
dreadful  time  of  it.  I  think  it  was  the  eighth 
dance  and  I  was  sitting  out  with  a  boy  named  Wil- 
fred Grey — the  one  Caroline  cut  Fanny  out  with, 
you  remember!  I  was  arguing  with  him  about 
clothes — he  said  he  preferred  bright  colors,  and 
I  insisted  there  was  nothing  as  lovely  as  white. 
Of  course  we  both  knew  he  really  meant  Caroline, 
and  Fanny.  Well  anyway,  in  the  middle  of  the 
dance — we  were  in  a  sort  of  a  little  alcove — Fanny 
came  by  pulling  a  big,  lanky  youth  after  her.  I 
never  saw  anything  so  funny;  he  was  just  walk- 
ing, and  making  no  kind  of  an  effort  to  keep  to  the 
music.  Mr.  Grey  and  I  laughed  about  it,  and 
when  they  came  around  again,  we  were  watching 
for  them.  Imagine  our  joy  when  they  stopped  just 


Polly's  Letter  163 

beside  us,  and  we  heard  Fanny  say,  in  that  killing 
way  of  hers: 

"  'Look  here,  Sam  Eamsby,  if  you'll  get  on  my 
feet  and  stay  there,  I'll  tote  you  around  this  room, 
but  this  jumping  on  and  off  is  more  than  I  can 
stand.'  Betty  wasn't  that  rare — it  was  the  best 
minute  of  the  whole  evening.  Lo  is  furious  that 
she  missed  it. 

" Mercy!  It's  twelve  o'clock  and  I  must  go  to 
bed.  Lo  is  going  to  add  a  P.S.  to-morrow.  Please 
appreciate  this  long  letter  as  I've  really  spent 
much  valuable  time  over  it. 

"Sleepily, 

1 1  POLLY.  " 

Lois'  postscript  followed. 

"Hello,  Bet: 

"I've  just  read  Polly's  scrawl,  and  I  must  really 
smile.  If  Caroline's  dress  made  hers  look  pale 
you  may  believe  it  was  at  long  range,  for  I  never 
saw  Poll  the  entire  evening  that  she  wasn't  com- 
pletely surrounded  and  hidden  from  view  by  a 
flock  of  dress  suits.  Wait  until  you  see  the  green 
dress  and  you  '11  understand  why. 

"Polly  says  she  promised  to  tell  you  about 


164    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

Fanny's  triumph  and  forgot  to.  Personally,  I'm 
glad  she  left  me  something  easy.  I  know  it  will 
amuse  you.  It  happened  the  first  night  we  got 
here.  There  were  a  lot  of  Fanny's  friends  at 
dinner  and  in  the  evening  we  played  games  and 
Caroline  sang.  Poll  has  described  her,  but  not  her 
voice.  It's  one  of  those  big  throaty  ones  that 
quaver,  and  she  sings  the  most  dramatic  of  love 
songs.  I  hated  it,  it  was  so  affected.  Well  of 
course,  everybody  raved  about  it  and  compli- 
mented her  and  asked  for  more.  They  didn't 
really  want  it,  but  Caroline  has  a  way  of  insist- 
ing upon  the  center  of  the  stage. 

"She  didn't  stop  until  everybody  was  thor- 
oughly tired  of  her  and  of  music  generally.  Then 
Polly  surprised  every  one  by  saying  quite  calmly : 
'Fanny  I  wish  you'd  sing  for  us  now.'  Caroline 
couldn't  understand.  'Why,  Fanny  can't  sing,' 
she  said.  I  don't  think  she  meant  to,  but  it  was 
out  before  she  could  stop  it.  I  was  cross. 

"  'Oh,  yes,  she  can,'  I  told  her,  'the  girls  at 
school  are  crazy  about  her  voice.  Sing  that  pretty 
French  song  Fanny. '  Poll  joined  in  and  we  teased 
so  hard  that  she  finally  did  sing. 

"Bet,  I  do  wish  you  could  have  seen  those  peo- 
ple, they  were  overcome  with  astonishment.  They 
were  so  used  to  Caroline  talking  of  nothing  but 


Polly's  Letter  165 

her  voice  that  they  had  never  thought  of  Fanny. 
But  after  that  first  song,  I  thought  they  would 
never  let  her  stop.  There,  that's  the  story.  Caro- 
line hasn't  been  asked  to  sing  since  and  Polly  and  I 
are  mean  enough  to  be  just  as  pleased  as  punch.  I 
must  stop  this  instant.  We'll  see  you  next  week  at 
good  old  Seddon  Hall.  In  the  meantime,  loads 
of  love.  I  won't  be  sorry  to  get  back.  How  about 


'  Affectionately, 

"Lois." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

MAUDES  DISAPPEAKAJSTCE 

THEKE  was  no  need  to  consult  the  calendar.  The 
subdued  voices,  and  the  worried  frowns,  to  be  seen 
in  any  of  the  corridors  or  classrooms  of  Seddon 
Hall  proclaimed  it  the  first  of  February,  and  ex- 
amination week.  Every  girl  carried  a  book  under 
her  arm  and  the  phrase,  "Do  you  think  you 
passed?"  was  on  every  one's  lips. 

Outside  the  weather  was  clear  and  cold,  the  pond 
was  frozen  smooth  as  glass.  The  snow  on  the  hill 
was  packed  solid  and  fit  for  coasting,  but  no  one 
ventured  that  far  away  from  their  books. 

The  first  half  of  the  year  was  over  and  the  girls 
knew  from  past  experience  that  the  rest  of  the 
time  would  hurry  by.  In  one  short  month  there 
would  be  a  hint  of  spring  in  the  air,  and  com- 
mencement would  be  in  sight. 

On  this  particular  afternoon  the  Senior  class 
were  having  their  examination  in  Latin  and,  to 
judge  by  their  frowns,  they  were  finding  it  diffi- 
cult. 

Betty  ruffled  her  hair  every  little  while  and 

166 


Maud's  Disappearance  167 

scowled  at  Miss  Hale,  who  was  correcting  papers 
at  her  desk.  She  had  answered  all  the  questions 
she  could  and  done  all  the  prose  work.  All  that 
was  left  was  a  translation  of  Virgil.  Betty  stared 
at  the  unfamiliar  text,  and  wondered  where  it 
had  come  from.  "I  don't  believe  it's  Virgil,"  she 
said  to  herself.  "If  it  is  it's  a  part  we  haven't 
had. ' '  Then  a  few  words  from  the  confusing  para- 
graphs caught  her  eye,  and  she  began  to  remem- 
ber. Her  brow  cleared — a  few  words  were  all 
Betty  ever  needed  to  start  her  on  one  of  her  famous 
translations.  She  wrote  hurriedly  for-  ten  min- 
utes. 

1  'That  will  do,  I  guess.  The  Spartan's  sure  to 
say,  'a  little  too  free,  but  correct  on  the  whole,'  any- 
way," she  thought,  ruefully,  as  she  folded  up  her 
paper  and  put  her  pen  and  ink  away. 

Miss  Hale  raised  her  eyebrows  in  surprise  as  she 
handed  in  the  examination. 

"You  have  finished  very  early,"  she  said,  coldly, 
and  Betty's  heart  sank.  "Don't  you  want  to  look 
over  your  paper?" 

"Jemima,  no!"  Betty  exclaimed,  without  think- 
ing. "That  is,  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Hale,  but 
I  don't  think  I  do.  You  see  I'd  begin  to  wonder 
about  all  my  answers  and  that  would  only  make 
things  worse,"  she  said,  desperately. 


168    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Very  well;  you  may  leave  the  room,"  Miss 
Hale  replied,  with  a  resigned  sigh  that  plunged 
Betty  into  the  deepest  gloom. 

She  wandered  over  to  Senior  Alley.  It  was 
deserted.  The  rest  of  her  classmates  were  still 
in  the  study  hall.  She  found  Angela's  history 
book  on  her  bed  and  started  to  study,  but  gave 
it  up  in  despair.  They  had  covered  over  half  of 
a  thick  book  that  year  and  there  was  no  way  of 
knowing  what  part  to  re-study. 

"I'd  be  sure  to  learn  all  the  dates  that  weren't 
asked  for,"  she  said,  aloud,  and  closed  the  book. 

She  thought  of  the  possible  Juniors  who  might 
be  free.  She  had  passed  Fanny  on  her  way  out 
of  the  study  hall — she  remembered  the  big  ink 
spot  that  she  had  on  one  cheek.  Suddenly  she 
thought  of  Maud. 

"Ill  bet  she's  finished  her  exam,  if  she  had 
one,"  she  laughed  to  herself,  for  Maud's  utter 
disregard  of  lessons  that  did  not  interest  her  was 
a  much-discussed  topic. 

She  went  upstairs  to  the  Sophomore  corridor, 
expecting  to  find  it  almost  as  deserted  as  her 
own,  but,  instead,  she  found  five  of  the  teachers 
talking  excitedly  in  the  hall. 

Mrs.  Baird  had  her  hand  on  the  knob  of  Maud'» 


Maud's  Disappearance  169 

door.  Betty  was  a  little  confused  at  such  a 
strange  gathering. 

1  i  Excuse  me, "  she  said,  hastily,  and  turned  to  go. 

There  was  no  need  to  explain  that  something 
was  wrong — the  whole  atmosphere  of  the  corridor 
was  charged  with  mystery. 

1  'Don't  go,  Betty,"  Mrs.  Baird  said,  peremp- 
torily, "I  have  something  to  tell  you;  perhaps 
you  can  help.  Have  you  seen  Maud  to-day?" 

Betty  shook  her  head.  ''No,"  she  said,  slowly, 
"I  don't  think  I  have." 

Mrs.  Baird  hesitated  for  a  minute  and  then 
said,  very  distinctly: 

"Maud  is  lost." 

It  was  a  startling  announcement,  and  Betty 
couldn't  understand.  "Who  ever  heard  of  any  one 
being  lost  at  Seddon  Hall. 

"But  how?"  she  asked  Mrs.  Baird.  "Where 
could  she  be!"  Miss  Crosby  answered  her: 

"Nobody  knows,  Betty,"  she  said.  "Maud  was 
at  breakfast  this  morning,  but  at  luncheon  time 
she  did  not  appear.  I  sent  one  of  the  girls  up 
to  look  for  her  and  she  came  back  and  told  me  she 
couldn't  find  her.  I  thought  perhaps  she  was  in 
the  Infirmary,  but  after  luncheon  I  asked  Miss 
King,  and  she  said  she  hadn't  seen  her." 


170    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

" She's  not  in  the  building;  we've  looked  every- 
where," Mrs.  Baird  continued.  "Where  could 
she  have  gone?  None  of  the  teachers  gave  her 
permission  to  go  out  of  bounds." 

At  the  word  permission  Betty  looked  up.  It 
struck  her  that  Maud  might  not  have  considered 
it  necessary  to  ask  for  permission. 

"May  I  go  to  her  room?"  she  asked  Mrs.  Baird. 

"Certainly." 

Betty  opened  the  door  and  looked  up  at  the  wall 
over  the  bed.  As  she  had  expected  Maud's  snow 
shoes  were  gone  from  their  accustomed  place. 
She  explained  to  the  teachers. 

"She's  probably  miles  away  by  now,"  she  fin- 
ished. "Did  she  have  any  examination  this  af- 
ternoon?" 

"Yes,  in  literature,"  Miss  Porter  told  her, 
"and  I  can't  believe  she'd  cut — " 

"She  wouldn't — not  literature  anyway,"  Betty 
said,  confidently,  and  turned  to  Mrs.  Baird. 

"I'm  sure  I  can  find  her  by  tracing  her  snow 
shoes,"  she  said. 

"But  you  mustn't  go  alone;  something  may 
have  happened.  Take  one  of  the  stable  boys  with 
you,"  Mrs.  Baird  answered. 

"I'd  rather  have  Polly  and  Lois,"  Betty  said, 
"if  there's  anything  wrong." 


Maud's  Disappearance  171 

"Very  well,  where  are  they?"  Mrs.  Baird 
asked. 

"Taking  their  Latin  exams,"  Betty  told  her. 

"Go  and  get  them.  I'll  explain  to  Miss  Hale, 
and,  Betty,  dear,  do  make  haste;  I'm  really  wor- 
ried; the  child  may  have  hurt  herself  somewhere." 

Betty  hurried  to  the  study  hall.  She  knew  it 
was  useless  to  try  to  explain  to  Miss  Hale ;  so  she 
said:  "Mrs.  Baird  wanted  Polly  and  Lois  at 
once."  They  handed  in  their  papers  and  joined 
her  in  the  corridor.  She  hurried  them  to  their 
room,  and  explained  on  the  way. 

Fifteen  minutes  later  they  had  found  the  track 
of  Maud's  snow  shoes  and  started  out  to  follow 
it. 

Seddon  Hall  owned  over  five  hundred  acres  of 
land  and  for  the  most  part  it  was  dense  woodland. 
Trailing  through  it  in  winter  without  snow  shoes 
was  hard  work,  for  the  snow  drifted  even  with  the 
high  boulders  in  places  and  you  were  apt  to 
suddenly  wade  in  up  to  your  waist.  Maud  had 
taken  the  path  that  went  out  towards  flat  rock. 
This  made  following  her  tracks  comparatively 
easy  for  the  girls. 

"What  under  the  sun  do  you  suppose  has  hap- 
pened to  her?"  Polly  demanded. 

"I  don't  know,"  Betty  replied;  "I  wish  I  knew 


172    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

when  she'd  started.  As  far  as  I  can  find  out  no 
one  has  seen  her  since  breakfast," 

"Did  she  have  an  exam  this  morning  I"  Lois 
inquired. 

"No;  her  class  had  Latin  and  she  doesn't  take 
it.  I'm  not  awfully  worried,"  Polly  said,  sud- 
denly. "I  would  be  if  it  were  any  one  but  Maud. 
She's  used  to  much  wilder  country  than  this  and 
I  can't  help  feeling  that  she's  all  right  some- 
where." 

"But,  where?"  Lois  demanded.  "If  she  were 
all  right  and  hadn't  hurt  herself  she'd  have  been 
home  by  now. ' ' 

"If  she's  kept  up  on  top  of  the  hill  she  can't 
have  come  to  very  great  grief,"  Betty  declared, 
"but  if  she's  headed  down  to  the  river — then,  any- 
thing could  have  happened." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  Lois  asked. 

"Why,  she  might  have  fallen  and  broken  her 
leg,"  Betty  explained.  "You  know  how  danger- 
ous those  rocks  are  in  winter;  she  may  have 
stepped  between  two  of  them  and  gotten  caught. ' ' 

"Don't,"  Lois  protested,  with  a  shudder. 

They  trudged  on  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in 
silence,  then  the  trail  turned  suddenly  to  the  right. 

"She's  gone  toward  the  apple  orchard,  thank 
goodness!"  Betty  exclaimed. 


Maud's  Disappearance  173 

"Do  you  suppose  she's  gone  round  by  way  of 
the  bridge  and  home  ? ' '  Lois  asked,  stopping.  ' '  If 
she  has,  we'll  have  our  hunt  in  vain." 

Polly  and  Betty  considered  a  minute.  Then 
Polly  said : 

11  Of  course  not;  if  she  had,  she'd  have  been 
home  hours  ago." 

When  they  reached  the  apple  orchard  they  no- 
ticed that  the  print  of  the  snow  shoes  was  less 
regular. 

" She's  stopped  to  rest  here,"  Betty  said,  point- 
ing to  the  ground.  "Look  how  irregular  these 
prints  are." 

"Come  on!"  Polly  said,  quickening  her  steps, 
"we  may  be  near  her." 

"Hold  on!"  Betty  cried,  "look,  something  hap- 
pened here ;  it  looks  as  if  she  'd  fallen  down ! "  A 
big  dent  in  the  snow,  as  if  a  body  had  been  lying 
on  the  ground,  showed  up  in  the  prints  of  Maud's 
snow  shoes. 

"Here's  a  queer  thing,"  Lois  pointed  out,  "one 
shoe 's  going  in  one  direction  and  one  in  another. ' ' 

Polly  walked  on  a  little  way,  and  then  called  to 
tlie  others,  excitedly: 

"Here  are  the  prints  and  look,  side  of  them 
there's  a  mark  as  if  she  were  dragging  something 
along  with  her. '  ' 


174    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"What's  that  black  spot  farther  on!"  Lois  de- 
manded. 

They  looked  in  the  direction  in  which  she 
pointed  and  saw,  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  far- 
ther on,  something  that  showed  black  against  the 
snow. 

"It's  a  man's  hat!  Oh,  Poll,  I'm  scared  to 
death,"  Lois  said,  trembling,  when  they  came  up 
to  it.  Murder  and  every  possible  form  of  high- 
way robbery  passed  through  her  mind. 

Betty  turned  white,  and  Polly  bit  her  lip. 

"Come  on!"  she  said,  bravely,  "we've  got  to 
find  her." 

'  *  Jemima ! ' '  Betty  groaned ;  "  it 's  beginning  to 
snow,  too."  She  picked  up  the  hat;  it  was  almost 
buried  by  the  snow,  and  looked  green  with  age. 
They  were  tired  by  this  time — walking  in  snow 
shoes  is  very  much  easier  than  trudging  in  rubber 
boots — and  they  realized  with  a  shudder  that 
Maud  and  her  unknown  companion  had  a  long 
start  of  them. 

They  followed  the  track  as  fast  as  they  could. 
It  went  on  through  the  orchard  and  down  the  hill, 
and  then  over  the  bridge.  It  stopped  there  and 
zigzagged  in  every  direction.  The  girls  looked 
and  exchanged  frightened  glances.  Betty's  heart 
was  beating  furiously  and  Lois'  knees  trembled. 


Maud's  Disappearance  175 

They  forged  on,  the  prints  were  clear  again,  and 
went  straight  up  the  hill,  always  accompanied  by 
the  queer,  uneven  path  beside  them. 

"She  must  be  dragging  something,"  Polly  said. 
"That's  all  that  that  track  can  mean." 

"Or  some  one  is  dragging  her,"  Lois  spoke  the 
thought  that  was  uppermost  in  Betty's  mind. 

"Nonsense!"  Polly  ejaculated.  "I  don't  be- 
lieve it.  I  tell  you  Maud  is  all  right,  wherever 
she  is.  I  know  it." 

The  road  they  were  taking  was  a  short  cut  to 
school.  There  was  a  steep  hill — a  level  stretch, 
and  then  it  joined  the  road  from  the  school 
farm.  The  snow  was  falling  heavily,  and  it  was 
getting  dark  when  they  reached  the  top  of  the  hill, 
and  the  prints  were  fast  disappearing.  By  the 
time  they  got  to  the  road  they  lost  all  track. 

"Whatever  happened,  Maud's  home,"  Betty 
exclaimed  in  a  relieved  voice,  and  broke  into  a 
run.  The  others  followed  her. 

Mrs.  Baird  was  walking  up  and  down  the  Senior 
porch  as  they  came  up. 

"Oh,  girls!  I'm  so  glad  you're  back;  come  in 
and  take  off  those  wet  clothes  right  away ;  Maud 's 
here." 

"Is  she  all  right?"  they  asked  in  chorus. 

"Yes,"  Mrs.  Baird  assured  them.    "She  must 


176    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

have  been  in  the  building  when  you  started  out. ' ' 

"Where?"  Betty  demanded. 

"In  the  bath-tub,"  Mrs.  Baird  said,  hurriedly. 
"I'll  explain  it  to  you  later.  Now  do  go  and 
change;  you  must  be  very  wet.  I'll  have  some 
hot  soup  for  you  in  my  sitting-room.  Come  as 
soon  as  you  can.  I'll  excuse  you  from  study 
hour. ' ' 

The  girls  hurried  upstairs  without  a  word.  In 
Senior  Alley  they  met  Fanny. 

"Do  you  know  where  Maud  Banks  is?"  Betty 
asked  her. 

"Yes;  she's  in  her  room,"  Fanny  said;  "where 
have  you  all — " 

"Go  up  and  tell  her  to  come  down  here  this 
minute,"  Betty  interrupted  her;  "please,  Fanny, 
like  a  dear,"  she  added  as  an  afterthought. 

Fanny  went  up  to  the  corridor  and  returned 
with  Maud. 

Polly  and  Lois  and  Betty  were  all  changing 
their  clothes  in  their  separate  rooms.  Maud 
stood  in  the  hall  between,  with  the  astonished 
Fanny. 

"Did  you  get  lost?"  Betty  asked  the  first  ques- 
tion. 

"No,  rather  not,"  Maud  answered;  "got  out  as 
far  as  an  apple  orchard,  and  it  was  awfully  late. 


Maud's  Disappearance  177 

I'd  no  idea  where  the  time  went.    I  knew  there 
must  be  a  short  cut,  so  I — " 

"Never  mind,  we  know  that"  Polly  interrupted. 
1 '  Did  you  sit  down  in  the  orchard ! ' ' 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  did;  my  snow  shoe  was 
loose.  How  did  you  know?" 

"Were  you  dragging  anything  when  you  left 
the  orchard?"  Lois  demanded. 

"Yes,  a  branch  of  a  tree;  I  say,  I'm  awfully 
sorry  you  had  all  that  trouble  of — " 

"Did  you  see  a  man's  hat  by  any  chance,  on 
your  way  to  the  bridge?"  Betty  asked. 

"Yes."  Maud  was  becoming  more  and  more 
bewildered. 

"What  did  you  do  when  you  got  home?" 

"Why,  I  hustled  down  to  Eoman  Alley  and  took 
a  tub.  You  see  I  was  awfully  late,  and  I  knew 
that  Miss — what's  her  name — Spartan  would  be 
no  end  cross  if  I  didn't  show  up  for  the  exam.  I 
didn't  want  to  miss  it  either;  it  was  literature, 
you  know." 

"Where  did  you  leave  your  snow  shoes?" 

* '  Up  against  the  gym  porch ;  they  were  awfully 
wet  and  I  didn't  want  to  take  the  time  to  go  to 
my  room.  I  say  it  was  a  bit  of  a  joke;  you're 
thinking  I  was  lost,  wasn't  it?"  she  asked,  calmly. 

Polly  finished  buttoning  her  dress. 


178    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Maud"  she  said  sternly  "go  back  upstairs. 
To-morrow  we  may  be  able  to  see  the  joke,  but  not 
now." 

Maud  left  with  Fanny.  "I'm  most  awfully 
sorry,"  were  her  last  words. 

A  few  minutes  later,  the  girls  sought  the  com- 
fort of  Mrs.  Baird's  charming  sitting-room,  and 
the  promised  hot  soup. 

Between  sips  they  told  her  the  story  of  their 
hunt  and  the  fears  that  beset  them.  She  listened 
delightedly,  but  with  ready  sympathy. 

"You  poor,  dear  children!  What  an  experi- 
ence! I  talked  to  Maud  very  severely." 

Betty  thought  she  said:  "I  will  talk." 

"Don't  tell  her  what  we've  told  you,"  she 
begged,  "I  wouldn't  have  her  know  for  anything." 

"She'd  say  it  was  no  end  of  a  joke"  Polly 
laughed. 

Mrs.  Baird  nodded  in  understanding. 

"Of  course  I  won't  tell  her,"  she  said  merrily. 
"It's  a  secret  just  between  us,"  she  added  with  a 
smile. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  JUNTOS  PKOM 

POLLY  and  Lois  were  busily  packing  their  suit- 
cases, while  Betty  and  Angela  stood  by  and  of- 
fered suggestions.  They  were  leaving  on  the  aft- 
ernoon train  for  Cambridge  to  attend  the  Junior 
Prom.  Bob  and  Jim  had  finally  prevailed  upon 
Mrs.  Farwell  to  let  them  come.  Barring  the  party 
at  Fanny's  this  was  their  first  big  dance,  and  they 
were  both  frankly  excited  about  it. 

"What  time  does  your  mother  get  here?"  Betty 
asked.  * '  Is  she  coming  up  to  school ! ' ' 

"No;  we're  going  to  meet  her  at  the  Junction, 
where  we  change  for  the  Boston  train, "  Lois  re- 
plied. 

"Oh,  I'm  sorry;  I  hoped  I  was  going  to  see 
her."  Betty  was  very  fond  of  Mrs.  Farwell, 

"She '11  be  here  for  Commencement,"  Polly  said, 
"so  will  Uncle  Roddy;  he's  crazy  to  see  you  again. 
And  this  summer  we  're  going  to  have  a  big  house 
party,  Ange.  You've  got  to  come  this  time  with 
Bet." 

179 


180    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"I'd  love  it,  if  you  won't  insist  on  my  breaking 
in  colts,  and — Look  out,  Lo!  if  you  don't  wrap  up 
those  slippers  in  tissue  paper  they'll  be  all 
scratched — " 

"I  haven't  any  tissue  paper;  won't  a  towel 
do?" 

"Yes;  here,  I'll  throw  you  one." 

" Mercy!  I  almost  forgot  my  silk  stockings," 
Polly  exclaimed.  "Get  them  out  of  my  bottom 
drawer  for  me,  will  you,  Bet,  like  an  angel?" 

Betty  hunted  in  the  drawer.  "They're  not 
here." 

"Then  look  on  the  closet  shelf." 

"Here  they  are.  Mercy,  aren't  they  beauties! 
butterflies  embroidered  on  them!"  Betty  drew 
one  on  over  her  hand  and  admired  it. 

"That's  Lo's  taste,"  Polly  said.  "She  gave 
them  to  me  for  Christmas.  There,  I  think  that's 
everything."  She  surveyed  her  neatly  packed 
bag.  "I  do  hope  my  dress  won't  be  wrinkled." 

"What  are  you  going  to  wear  for  an  evening 
coat?"  Angela  inquired. 

"Our  capes,"  Lois  answered. 

"You'll  freeze  to  death,  and  the  hoods  will 
crush  your  hair." 

"Well,  what  will  we  do?"  Lois  asked.  "Wear 
veils?" 


The  Junior  Prom  181 

Angela  considered  a  minute,  and  then  left  the 
room  to  return  with  a  long  scarf  of  maline  over 
her  arm. 

"Here,  take  this,  one  of  you;  wait  till  we  decide 
which  one  it's  the  more  becoming  to.*'  She  put  it 
around  Polly ,'s  neck  and  drew  part  of  it  up  over 
her  hair. 

"Very  sweet,  but,"  Betty  said,  "try  it  on,  Lo." 

"Perfect!  you  get  it,"  she  said,  as  they  viewed 
the  effect,  and  certainly  the  soft,  flimsy  tulle  did 
make  a  charming  background  for  Lois'  delicate 
beauty. 

"Polly,  you  need  something  more  severe,"  An- 
gela said. 

"I've  a  wonderful  Koman  scarf;  it's  all  lovely 
pale  shades.  I'll  get  it;  wait  a  shake,"  Betty  of- 
fered. "There  you  are,"  she  said,  triumphantly, 
when  she  had  pulled  it  tightly  around  Polly's 
head.  * '  You  look  Italian ;  all  you  need  is  a  pitcher 
on  your  shoulder." 

"It  might  interfere  with  my  dancing,"  Polly 
laughed.  '  *  Thanks,  ever  so  much,  Betty  dear ;  I  '11 
lend  you  my  butterfly  stockings  when  you  go  up  to 
West  Point." 

"Then,  don't  you  dare  dance  holes  in  them," 
Betty  warned.  "Perhaps  you'd  better  not  dance 
at  all;  it  might  be  safer,"  she  added. 


182    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Just  find  a  nice  comfortable  chair  and  sit  in 
it  and  keep  your  feet  off  the  floor,"  Angela  sug- 
gested. "Then,  if  any  one  asks  you  to  dance,  why 
tell  them  that  you'd  like  to  but  Betty  says  you 
mustn't." 

' '  I  've  taken  enough  clothes  for  a  month. ' '  Lois 
looked  despairingly  at  her  bag.  "Sit  on  it,  will 
you,  Bet?"  Together  they  closed  it  and  Lois 
locked  it  as  a  precaution  against  its  flying  open. 

"It's  nearly  time  to  start."  Polly  consulted 
her  watch.  "I'm  so  excited  my  heart's  in  my 
mouth." 

"There's  your  carriage;  it's  waiting,"  Angela 
said,  looking  out  of  the  window.  "You'd  better 
hurry.  Here,  I'll  take  one  bag."  Betty  took  the 
other,  while  Polly  and  Lois  tried  frantically  to 
pull  on  their  gloves. 

"Be  sure  and  remember  everything,"  Betty 
said,  as  they  ran  downstairs,  "so  you  can  tell  me 
how  to  act  next  week." 

"We  will,"  Polly  promised. 

They  met  Mrs.  Farwell  an  hour  later  and  took 
the  train  for  Boston. 

"I  had  a  letter  from  Bob  this  morning,"  she 
told  them.  "He  says  that  he  will  not  be  able  to 
see  us  until  luncheon  time  to-morrow;  he's  awfully 
busy,  I  suppose." 


The  Junior  Prom  183 

"Maybe  he's  trying  to  find  partners  for  us," 
Lois  laughed,  "and  he's  not  finding  it  easy." 

Polly  groaned:  "Oh,  Aunt  Kate,"  she  said, 
"suppose  we  have  to  sit  out  half  the  dances." 

Mrs.  Farwell  laughed. 

"I  wouldn't  worry  about  it,  if  I  were  you," 
she  said,  confidently;  "you  can  trust  Bob  to  see 
to  that." 

The  next  day,  Jim  and  Bob  joined  them  at 
luncheon,  at  one  o'clock. 

"Why  didn't  you  meet  us  yesterday?"  Lois  de- 
manded when  they  were  seated  at  the  table. 

"Couldn't  do  it,"  Bob  told  her. 

"But  we're  at  your  service  this  afternoon," 
Jim  added.  "What  do  you  want  to  do?" 

"Why  don't  you  just  sit  and  talk,  up  in  our 
sitting-room,"  Mrs.  Farwell  suggested.  "If  you 
do  anything  else  the  girls  will  be  tired  out  for 
the  dance." 

"What,  and  waste  all  the  beautiful  afternoon? 
Oh,  mother!"  Bob  objected.  "Besides,"  he 
added,  winking  at  Jim,  "if  we  sit  and  talk,  as  you 
suggest,  the  girls  will  be  tired.  You  know  Lois? " 

"Oh,  Bobby,  aren't  you  mean?"  Lois  said.  "I 
don't  talk  nearly  as  much  as  you  do." 

"How  about  taking  a  ride  in  my  car?"  Jim  sug- 
gested. "It's  a  warm  day." 


184    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Oh,  Jim!"  Mrs.  Farwell  said,  "I'm  afraid  to 
let  them." 

"But  you  come,  too,"  Jim  urged.  "We  could 
all  crowd  in." 

Mrs.  Farwell  shook  her  head. 

"No;  I  must  rest;  my  head  really  aches,"  she 
said. 

"Then,  let  us  go,"  Boh  teased.  "Just  for  a 
short  ride.  You'll  hurt  Jim's  feelings  if  you 
don't;  he's  awfully  proud  of  Pegasus." 

"Pegasus?  Is  that  the  name  of  the  car?"  Mrs. 
Farwell  laughed.  "Well — "  she  hesitated. 

"We'll  promise  not  to  go  one  bit  faster  than 
thirty  miles  an  hour,"  Jim  assured  her. 

"And  I'll  blow  the  horn  all  the  way,  mother 
darling,"  Lois  added.  "I  hope  it's  a  nice,  noisy 
Claxon?  Is  it,  Jim?" 

"Better  than  that,"  he  told  her,  "it  has  three 
notes,  and  you  can  play  a  tune  on  it." 

"May  we  go,  Aunt  Kate?"  Polly  asked,  anx- 
iously. "We  really  will  be  careful." 

Mrs.  Farwell  looked  from  one  to  the  other. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  slowly,  "but  you  must  be  back 
by  four  o'clock." 

"Oh,  mother;  make  it  five,"  Bob  teased. 

"No;  four  o'clock."  Mrs.  Farwell  was  deter- 
mined. "The  girls  must  rest." 


The  Junior  Prom  185 

Jim  left  to  get  his  car.  In  less  than  half  an 
hour  they  heard  his  horn  blow. 

"He's  here;  hurry  up,"  Bob  said.  " Don't 
make  him  stop  the  engine." 

Mrs.  Farwell  pulled  the  girls'  furs  up  close 
about  their  necks  and  went  down  to  see  them 
off. 

"Now,  do  be  careful,"  she  said,  earnestly. 
"Remember,  Jim,  no  fast  driving." 

"Not  even  if  I  see  a  fine  road  ahead  with  no 
cars  in  sight,"  he  promised  her  solemnly. 

"And  that  means  a  whole  lot  for  Jim,"  Bob 
explained.  "He's  rather  proud  of  his  driving, 
mother,  and  it's  an  awful  disappointment  to  him 
when  he  can't  show  off." 

"Nonsense;  I  don't  believe  it,"  she  called  after 
them;  "I  know  he'll  be  careful." 

The  car,  or  "Pegasus,"  to  give  it  its  proper 
title,  was  long  and  gray  and  shaped  like  a  boat.  It 
was  really  a  roadster,  but  a  small  seat  opened  up 
in  the  back  to  accommodate  two  people. 

Bob  and  Polly  climbed  into  it,  and  Lois  took  her 
place  beside  Jim.  They  drove  slowly  through  the 
city. 

"Where  to?"  Jim  inquired. 

"Anywhere,"  Lois  said,  "as  long  as  we  go. 
Isn't  this  air  wonderful?  Why,  it's  like  spring." 


186    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

Jim  headed  the  car  in  the  direction  of  Salem 
and  the  speedometer  registered  thirty  miles. 

"Why  didn't  you  promise  mother  not  to  go  over 
forty  miles  an  hour!"  Lois  asked. 

"Because  I  knew  she  wouldn't  let  us  go,"  Jim 
replied.  "Isn't  this  fast  enough  for  you?" 

Lois  looked  up  at  him  over  her  hrown  furs. 

"Do  you  know,"  she  said,  slowly,  "my  one  am- 
bition is  to  go  sixty  miles  an  hour  in  a  car. ' ' 

Jim  gasped  for  a  second.  He  was  tempted,  but 
he  said:  "Sorry  I  can't  take  you." 

"Of  course  you  can't  to-day,"  Lois  agreed. 
"But  will  you  some  time!" 

"You  bet,"  Jim  promised,  enthusiastically. 
"Bob's  asked  me  to  visit  him  this  summer,  you 
know,"  he  added;  "maybe  we  can  try  it  then. 
Would  you  like  to  drive!"  he  asked  when  they 
were  well  out  of  the  city. 

"I  don't  know  how,"  Lois  said,  sorrowfully. 

"Well,  I'll  teach  you."    Jim  stopped  the  car. 

"What's  the  matter!'  Bob  called. 

"Nothing,"  Jim  said,  "I'm  going  to  let  Lois 
drive;  that's  all." 

"Oh,  Jim,  have  pity  on  us !"  Polly  begged;  "we 
do  want  to  go  to  the  dance  to-night. ' ' 

"Don't  worry,"  he  answered,  "you'll  get 
there." 


The  Junior  Prom  187 

"Now,'*  he  said  to  Lois,  when  they  had  changed 
places,  "push  that  back;  it's  the  brake,  and  you 
want  to  release  it.  There,  now  put  your  foot  on 
that ;  that  feeds  gas  in  the  engine.  No,  do  it  gen- 
tly, ' '  he  said,  as  the  car  jerked  forward. 

Lois'  face  was  set  in  firm  determination,  and 
she  obeyed  instructions  without  a  word.  After 
she  had  stalled  the  car  several  times,  and  Bob  had 
gotten  out  to  crank  it,  she  finally  started. 

A  motor  van  coming  towards  them  made  her 
almost  run  into  a  ditch.  But  Jim  took  the  wheel 
in  time. 

"You  know,  you  don't  have  to  climb  trees  and 
fences,  Lo,"  Bob  teased;  "there's  really  plenty  of 
room  on  the  road." 

"Oh,  but  it  looked  as  if  it  would  run  right  into 
us!"  she  exclaimed,  shuddering.  "Suppose  it 
had  taken  off  one  of  our  wheels  ? ' ' 

"Keep  still,  Bob,"  Jim  directed.  "Don't  talk 
to  the  chauffeur." 

They  drove  on  for  a  few  miles  more  and  were 
beginning  to  consider  turning,  when  the  car  began 
to  miss  and  make  terrifying  noises. 

"What's  it  doing?"  Lois  demanded.  "Have 
I  broken  it?" 

Jim  laughed  heartily.  *  *  No, ' '  he  said,  ' '  change 
places  with  me.  I'll  fix  it." 


188    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

But  Pegasus  refused  to  be  fixed.  It  went  on  a 
little  farther,  and  then  stopped. 

Jim  and  Bob  got  out.  They  opened  the  hood. 
"Nothing  wrong  here,'*  Jim  said.  "I  wonder 
what's  up!" 

"I'll  spin  it,"  Bob  suggested.  They  worked 
for  nearly  fifteen  minutes,  but  the  car  would  not 
budge. 

"I  know  I  did  something  to  it,"  Lois  turned 
tearfully  to  Polly;  "now  we'll  never  get  home." 

"Oh,  yes  we  will;  we  can  get  some  one  to  pull 
us,  I  guess,"  Polly  comforted  her.  "Maybe 
there's  no  more  gasoline,"  she  said  to  Bob. 

The  boys  looked  at  each  other  and  then  burst 
out  laughing.  Jim  investigated  the  tank  and 
then  took  off  his  hat  and  bowed  respectfully  to 
Polly. 

"You  are  quite  right;  there  is  no  gas,  and  I'm  a 
— well — I'm  a  very  brilliant  driver.  Will  you 
please  tell  me  how  you  ever  thought  of  it  ? " 

Polly  laughed.  "Why,  that's  what  always  hap- 
pens to  Uncle  Eoddy's  car  when  he  goes  out," 
she  said.  "He  never  remembers  the  gas.  Some- 
times he  pulls  the  poor  car  to  pieces  before  he 
thinks  of  it." 

Jim  felt  comforted. 

"Well,  I  guess  I'll  go  see  what  I  can  do  about 


The  Junior  Prom  189 

getting  some.    Bob,  you  stay  here  with  the  girls. ' ' 

"Somebody  has  to  call  up  Aunt  Kate,"  Polly 
reminded  them,  "we  won't  be  home  by  four,  and 
she'll  be  worried." 

"Then  Bob's  got  to  do  it,"  Jim  said,  decidedly. 
"I'll  never  be  able  to  face  her  after  all  my  prom- 
ises." 

"All  right!"  Bob  said.  "I  see  a  house  down 
the  road." 

"Perhaps  they'll  have  some  gas,"  Jim  said, 
hopefully,  as  they  started  off. 

But  it  was  after  seven  before  they  finally  got 
back  to  the  hotel.  Jim  had  had  to  walk  miles  be- 
fore he  could  get  a  pail  of  gasoline,  and  then  on 
the  way  back  one  of  the  tires  had  blown  out. 

Mrs.  Farwell  was  waiting  for  them  in  the  lobby. 
She  looked  thoroughly  frightened. 

' '  Children,  where  have  you  been  T ' '  she  asked. 

Bob  explained. 

"We  couldn't  get  here  a  second  sooner,"  he 
concluded. 

"I'm  awfully  sorry,  Mrs.  Farwell,"  Jim  added, 
apologetically,  "I  never  felt  so  ashamed  in  my 
life ;  but  I  really  did  start  with  plenty  of  gas,  only 
the  tank  leaked,"  he  finished  ruefully. 

Mrs.  Farwell  smiled  her  forgiveness. 

"You'll  have  to  hurry  through  dinner,  then  go 


190    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

and  dress,"  she  said.  "Perhaps,  after  all,  the 
girls  aren't  so  very  tired. " 

Polly  put  her  arm  around  her. 

" Tired?"  she  said,  happily,  "why,  Aunt  Kate, 
I  feel  as  if  I  could  dance  all  night." 

"So  do  I,  mother  darling,"  Lois  insisted. 

"Well,  that's  very  probably  just  what  you  will 
do,"  Mrs.  Farwell  answered  with  a  resigned  sigh. 

Bob  and  Jim,  after  a  very  hasty  dinner,  hur- 
ried to  their  rooms  to  change  their  clothes,  and 
were  back  before  either  of  the  girls  were  ready, 
for  Mrs.  Farwell  had  insisted  upon  an  hour's  rest. 
When  they  did  join  the  boys,  they  were  looking 
their  best.  They  had  on  the  same  yellow  and 
green  dresses  that  they  had  worn  at  Fanny's 
party. 

Bob  and  Jim  were  secretly  delighted.  There  is 
always  a  good-natured  rivalry  at  a  Junior  Prom 
and  they  both  felt  that  the  girls'  charming  ap- 
pearance gave  them  a  decided  advantage  over  the 
other  men. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  Union  the  dance  had 
already  started,  and  the  floor  was  crowded  with 
people.  Lois  and  Polly  were  so  carried  away 
by  excitement  that  the  whole  evening  passed  in  a 
whirl  of  delight. 

Mrs.  Farwell  had  been  right  the  day  before 


The  Junior  Prom  191 

when  she  had  promised  her  that  Bob  would  see 
that  they  had  plenty  of  partners,  for  Jim  and  he 
brought  up  all  their  friends  and  introduced  them. 

As  Polly  said  afterward,  in  answer  to  Betty's 
questions. 

"There  were  so  many  of  them  that  I  couldn't 
begin  to  remember  their  names.  I  just  called 
them  all  Mr.  Er— " 

"What  was  the  hall  like?"  Betty  had  demanded 
of  Lois. 

"Mercy!  I  don't  remember,"  she  said,  "ex- 
cept that  it  had  two  big  fireplaces  and  the  most 
fascinating  chandeliers  made  of  deers'  antlers." 

Betty  had  been  disgusted  at  this  hazy  descrip- 
tion. 

It  was  after  two  o  'clock  before  they  got  back  to 
the  hotel,  and  they  were  both  so  sleepy  that  they 
could  hardly  thank  Bob  and  Jim  for  their  good 
time. 

As  the  boys  went  back  to  their  rooms,  Jim  said : 
"Bob,  do  you  think  the  girls  will  ever  forgive  me 
for  this  afternoon?" 

"Why,  of  course,"  Bob  assured  him.  "They 
didn't  mind  being  late.  Polly  would  rather  mo- 
tor than  dance  any  day." 

"H'm!"  Jim  replied,  slowly,  "but  it  happens 
to  be  Lois  that  I'm  worrying  about." 


192    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Well,  you  needn't,"  Bob  answered,  laughing. 
"When  I  was  dancing  with  her  to-night,  I  asked 
her  if  she  didn't  like  you  better  than  she  used  to, 
and  she  said:  'Oh,  lots,  Bobby;  I  think  he's  a 
duck.'  " 


CHAPTER  XVI 

MUMPS 

"CHEER  up,  Polly!  it  can't  be  as  bad  as  all 
that,"  Betty  said,  laughing,  in  spite  of  herself. 
For  the  spectacle  of  her  friend's  woe-begone  ex- 
pression was  too  exaggerated  to  be  funny. 

"I  didn't  think  the  game  was  so  bad,"  Lois  re- 
marked, cheerfully;  "nothing  to  worry  over." 

They  had  just  returned  from  the  gym,  where 
the  regular  team  had  been  practicing  in  prepara- 
tion for  the  coming  indoor  meet. 

February  was  almost  at  an  end,  and  the  girls 
had  completely  recovered  from  the  Junior  Prom. 
The  date  for  the  game  was  settled,  and  Seddon 
Hall  was  to  play  the  Whitehead  school  team  the 
following  week. 

"If  we  were  only  playing  in  our  own  gym," 
Polly  said,  forlornly,  "we  might  have  a  chance; 
but  to  have  to  travel  for  an  hour  on  the  train 
first,  have  luncheon  in  a  new  place,  and  then  play 
in  a  strange  gym,  why  we'll  none  of  us  be  up  to 
our  best." 

193 


194    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  ScHool 

"You  talk  as  if  we  were  all  very  nervous  and 
highly  strung  children, "  Betty  -said,  impatiently. 
"We've  all  played  in  other  gyms  before." 

"Fanny  never  has,"  Lois  reminded  her. 

"Well,  what  of  it?  She  won't  get  scared.  I 
know  her  better  than  you  do,"  Betty  insisted. 
"We've  two  more  days  to  practice,  anyway." 

"Two  more  days!  Do  you  suppose  that's 
enough  time  for  Eleanor  to  learn  not  to  make 
fouls,  and  for  Fanny  to  learn  your  passes  ? ' '  Polly 
demanded.  "It's  all  very  well  for  you  to  be 
cheerful;  you're  not  captain." 

"But  worrying  won't  help  any,  Poll,"  Lois  said, 
quietly.  "If  you  are  going  to  get  in  a  blue  funk, 
what  can  you  expect  of  the  others?" 

"Nothing!"  Polly  answered;  "I  know  I'm  silly, 
but  that  team  beat  us  last  year  on  our  own  floor, 
and  our  team  was  twice  as  strong  then  as  it  is 
now." 

Lois  and  Betty  gave  up  arguing.  They  under- 
stood exactly  how  Polly  felt,  but  they  knew,  too, 
as  soon  as  the  game  began  she  could  be  depended 
upon  to  regain  her  courage  and  hope. 

The  next  two  days  the  team  worked  hard.  They 
practiced  passes  and  signals,  and  Eleanor  did  her 
best  to  remember  the  unaccustomed  lines.  By 


Mumps  195 

Saturday  morning  Polly  felt  a  little  more  cheer- 
ful. 

"What  time  do  we  leave?"  Lois  asked,  after 
breakfast.  ' '  Ten-thirty  ? ' ' 

"Yes;  and  I'm  going  to  post  a  notice  that  every 
one  is  to  be  ready  at  ten.  Then  I'll  be  sure  of 
them,"  Polly  said. 

' '  I  wish  we  could  take  Maud  as  a  sub,  instead  of 
Caroline  "Webb,"  Lois  said,  slowly.  "She's 
worth  more." 

Polly  shook  her  head.  "It  doesn't  matter, 
really,"  she  said.  "Our  sub-team  is  so  weak  that 
we  simply  can't  rely  on  it.  We'll  have  to  play  it 
all  through  ourselves,  and  we  mustn't  get  hurt; 
that's  all  there  is  to  it.  If  one  of  us  gets  out  of 
this  game  to-day,  it  will  mean  we  lose,"  she  con- 
cluded, decidedly. 

"Oh,  captain,  how  do  you  feel?"  Betty  inquired, 
coming  in  with  her  gym  suit  over  her  arm.  "I've 
been  talking  to  some  of  the  girls;  they're  just  suf- 
ficiently nervous — all  except  Eleanor — she's  too 
cocksure.  I  don't  like  it,"  she  added,  shaking 
her  head  doubtfully.  No  one  knew  better  than 
she  how  dangerous  over-confidence  was  before  a 
game ;  it  was  much  more  liable  to  prove  disastrous 
than  a  severe  case  of  fear. 


196    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"I'll  talk  to  her,"  Polly  said.  "Don't  worry; 
she'll  get  over  any  extra  amount  of  confidence 
when  she  sees  the  other  team — that  is,  if  they're 
the  size  they  were  last  year." 

"Which  I  hope  and  pray  they  are  not,"  Lois 
added,  fervently. 

They  started  at  ten-thirty,  after  a  little  delay 
caused  by  Fanny  forgetting  her  gym  shoes,  and 
Betty  her  favorite  hair  ribbon.  The  school  gave 
them  a  hearty  send-off,  cheering  the  carryall  as 
far  as  the  gate. 

They  arrived  at  Whitehead  in  time  for  lunch- 
eon. 

"They  don't  seem  awfully  cheerful  here,"  Polly 
said,  when  she  and  Lois  were  alone  for  a  minute. 
"I  wonder  what's  the  matter!" 

"Doris  Bates,  you  know,  the  girl  who  plays  for- 
ward, told  me  she  had  a  terrible  sore  throat," 
Lois  replied.  "Perhaps  she's  given  it  to  the 
rest." 

"I  have  an  idea  they'll  use  their  subs,"  Polly 
said.  "If  they  do—"  She  let  Lois  finish  the 
remainder  of  the  sentence  for  herself. 

The  game  began  at  two  o'clock.  The  White- 
head  gymnasium  was  a  big,  high  ceilinged  room 
with  small  windows.  It  was  really  a  converted 
barn.  The  light  was  so  poor  that  on  winter  after- 


Mumps  197 

noons  they  had  always  to  use  the  big  arc  lamps 
that  were  incased  in  wire,  and  hung  at  either  end 
of  the  room.  There  was  no  gallery  for  the  spec- 
tators. They  sat  around  in  groups  wherever  they 
could  find  a  place.  Some  of  them  were  so  near 
the  lines  that  Polly  felt  sure  she  would  run  into 
them  and,  hardest  drawback  of  all,  the  floor  was 
slippery.  The  school  used  the  gym  for  all  their 
entertainments  and  it  had  been  waxed  not  a  week 
before. 

Polly  took  in  all  these  disadvantages  at  once 
and  realized  their  probable  effect  on  her  team. 

"Don't  lose  your  nerve  or  your  head,"  she 
said,  cautioning  them  before  the  game  started. 
"The  lights  are  a  bother,  but  try  not  to  pay  any 
attention  to  them.  If  you  hit  them,  never  mind. 
Be  careful  of  the  floor,  and  if  you  want  to  go  after 
a  ball,  let  the  girls  on  the  side  lines  look  out  for 
you." 

"I  do  wish  they'd  move  back,"  Fanny  said,  al- 
most tearfully.  "They  might  just  as  well  be  fol- 
lowing you  around,  holding  your  hand?  They're 
so  close  I  declare  I  can  hear  them  breathing." 

"The  lines  are  awfully  faint,"  Eleanor  said,  de- 
jectedly. She  was  looking  hard  at  the  big  broad- 
shouldered  girl  it  would  be  her  duty  to  guard. 

Polly  glanced  from  one  face  to  the  other.    Even 


198    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

Lois'  and  Betty's  reflected  apprehension.  She 
sighed. 

"Kemember,"  she  said,  as  they  took  their 
places,  "we're  playing  for  Seddon  Hall." 

When  the  first  whistle  blew  she  felt  that  she  was 
facing  a  sure  defeat  and  she  tried  valiantly  to 
keep  her  glance  from  straying  in  the  direction  of 
the  silver  cup.  But,  as  the  game  progressed,  she 
discovered  that,  though  her  team  was  heavily  han- 
dicapped, the  only  danger  that  they  really  had  to 
face  was  surprise.  For  they  had  expected  to 
fight,  and  fight  hard  for  every  point,  and  they  were 
totally  unprepared  for  the  unexplainable  collapse 
of  the  opposing  team.  From  the  very  start,  the 
ball  was  theirs.  It  took  time  for  them  to  recover 
from  the  shock  before  they  could  use  their  advan- 
tage. Before  the  end  of  the  first  half,  Whitehead 
had  put  in  four  substitutes. 

"What  can  be  the  matter?"  Lois  demanded  be- 
tween halves.  "Why,  they're  not  putting  up  any 
fight  at  all." 

*  *  They  're  all  sick, ' '  Betty  said.  ' '  Both  the  cen- 
ters have  terrible  colds.  It's  a  shame." 

The  second  half  was  a  repetition  of  the  first, 
and  Seddon  Hall  won  an  easy  victory. 

Polly  felt  that  she  had  not  really  earned  the 


Polly  felt  that  she  had  not  really  earned  the  cup 
when  it  was  presented  to  her  at  the  close  of  the 
game.  Page  198 


Mumps  199 

cup  when  it  was  presented  to  her  at  the  close  of 
the  game. 

The  score  was  twenty-seven  to  nothing  in  their 
favor. 

"It's  too  bad  your  team  are  all  laid  up,"  she 
said  to  the  other  captain.  "I'm  sorry;  I  know 
that  we  would  never  have  made  such  a  score  if 
you'd  all  been  well. 

The  other  girl  smiled.  "Why  you  won  it 
fairly,"  she  said.  "We  played  a  miserable  game. 
A  few  colds  shouldn't  have  made  all  that  differ- 
ence. I  don't  know  what  happened  to  us." 

"Well,  you'll  have  a  chance  for  revenge  next 
year,"  Polly  answered  with  a  parting  nod. 

The  return  of  the  team  lacked  something  of  its 
triumphal  spirit.  There  is  never  the  same  feel- 
ing of  exhilaration  over  an  easily  won  struggle 
that  there  is  over  a  hard  fought  one.  And  though 
the  rest  of  the  girls  welcomed  the  return  of  the 
cup,  there  was  a  general  feeling  of  sympathy  for 
the  other  team,  rather  than  enthusiastic  praise 
for  their  own. 

Polly  and  Betty  were  still  puzzling  over  the 
whole  thing  two  days  later  in  the  study  hall,  when 
Lois  joined  them  and  solved  the  mystery. 

"I  have  an  awful  sore  throat.    What  do  you 


200    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

suppose  is  the  matter  with  me?  I  don't  feel  like 
doing  a  thing,"  she  said. 

"Better  go  and  see  Miss  King,"  Polly  advised. 
"You  look  sort  of  tired  and  sick." 

"I  think  I  will,  "Lois  said. 

In  the  Infirmary  a  few  minutes  later,  Miss  King 
looked  down  her  throat  and  prodded  the  outside. 
"How  long  have  you  felt  this  way?"  she  asked. 

"Only  yesterday  and  to-day,"  Lois  told  her. 
"Don't  say  I  have  to  go  to  bed,  please." 

"Sorry,"  Miss  King  said,  briskly,  "but  you  do. 
Don't  go  downstairs  again;  go  right  in  here;  I'll 
get  your  things." 

"What  have  I  got?"  Lois  demanded. 

The  nurse  shook  her  head.  "Nothing  much,  I 
hope,"  she  said,  "but  I  want  you  to  go  to  bed." 

Next  morning  Lois  awoke  in  the  Infirmary  to 
see  Miss  King  standing  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

"What  are  you  laughing  at?"  she  asked, 
sleepily. 

Miss  King  gave  her  a  hand  glass  before  reply- 
ing. 

Lois  sat  up  in  bed  and  looked  at  herself.  Both 
sides  of  her  face  were  swollen. 

"Mumps!"  she  exclaimed.  "Oh,  what  a  sight 
I  am,"  she  added,  laughing. 


Mumps  201 

Polly  and  Betty  came  up  to  inquire  for  her, 
after  breakfast,  and  heard  the  news. 

"Mumps!"  they  both  said  at  once.  And  Polly 
cried.  "Why,  Betty,  that's  what  was  wrong  with 
the  Whitehead  team." 

"Of  course,  sore  throats  and  everything.  I'll 
bet  they  all  came  down  with  it  the  next  day," 
Betty  exclaimed.  '  *  No  wonder  they  couldn  't  play 
any  kind  of  a  game." 

Lois  did  not  remain  alone  in  the  Infirmary  for 
long.  One  by  one  the  team  joined  her.  Polly  was 
the  first.  During  study  hour  that  night  her  throat 
began  to  hurt.  She  felt  it;  it  was  suspiciously 
lumpy. 

"Here  I  am,"  she  said  the  next  morning,  when 
Miss  King  had  pronounced  it  mumps. 

"Oh,  Poll!"  Lois  was  delighted.  "You  look 
funnier  than  I  do.  Only  one  side  is  swelling  and 
it  makes  you  look  top  heavy." 

Polly  surveyed  herself  in  the  mirror. 

"That's  easily  fixed,"  she  said.    "Watch!" 

She  undid  her  hair  and  rolled  it  into  a  round 
knob  under  one  ear.  "There,  now  it's  even." 

"But  it  doesn't  match,"  Lois  objected.  "You 
look  like  a  pie-bald  pony  now." 

Polly  glanced  about  the  room.    A  round  cellu- 


202    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

loid  powder-box  caught  her  eye.  She  emptied 
the  powder  out  and  fitted  the  box  over  her  hair. 

"That  better?"  she  inquired. 

Lois  was  still  laughing  over  this  absurd  pic- 
ture, when  the  door  opened,  and  in  walked  Betty 
and  Fanny. 

"You  two?"  Polly  exclaimed.  "Oh,  what  a 
lark!" 

"When  did  you  get  it?"  Lois  asked. 

"Suddenly,  last  night,  at  dinner,"  Betty  an- 
swered. "We  had  salad  with  French  dressing. 
And,  oh,  when  I  swallowed  that  vinegar!" 

"I  certainly  did  think  I  was  going  to  choke  to 
death,"  Fanny  said,  feelingly.  "I  jumped  right 
up  from  the  table. ' ' 

"Yes,  and  knocked  over  a  glass  of  water," 
Betty  prompted,  "and  announced  to  the  whole 
dining-room  that  you  reckoned  you  had  the 
mumps.  Everybody  laughed  so  hard  they 
couldn't  eat  any  more  dinner,"  she  concluded. 

"I'm  so  glad  you  both  got  it,"  Polly  said. 

"Do  you  suppose  we'll  look  like  you  two  do 
to-morrow?"  Betty  asked  rudely. 

"Worse,  probably,"  Lois  consoled  her. 

Eleanor  and  Evelin  came  down  with  it  the  next 
day.  After  that  there  were  no  more  cases.  For- 
tunately, it  did  not  spread  throughout  the  school. 


Mumps  203 

Perhaps  some  of  the  girls  were  disappointed,  for 
the  stories  of  the  good  time  in  the  Infirmary  made 
school  seem  very  stupid  by  comparison. 

One  day  Miss  King  brought  Betty  a  note  from 
Angela.  It  was  wrapped  around  a  copy  of  the 
Gossip,  the  Whitehead  school  paper. 

"Dear  Mumpy  (she  wrote) : 

"Read  the  news  item  on  page  ten.  I  think  it's 
funny.  If  you  want  to  answer  it  in  our  issue  of 
the  Taller  this  month,  send  me  word  what  to  say, 
and  I'll  see  to  it.  Hurry  up  and  get  well.  We  all 
miss  you  lots,  especially  in  Latin  class.  Love  to 
the  rest.  Ange." 

Betty  opened  the  paper  at  the  tenth  page  and 
read: 

IMPORTANT  NEWS  ITEM. 


i  1 1 


:  Sudden  disappearance  of  valuable  mump 
germs.  Last  seen  in  a  silver  trophy  cup  on  or 
about  February  twenty-fifth.  Seddon  Hall  bas- 
ket ball  team  under  suspicion  of  theft,  but  no  ar- 
rests have  been  made.  Any  information  regard- 
ing same  will  be  gratefully  received." 

"That  settles  it."  Betty  stopped  reading  to 
laugh.  "We  took  their  mump  germs  with  a  ven- 
geance. 


204    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

1  'Means  they've  got  it,  too,"  laughed  Lois. 

"-Of  course  we'll  have  to  answer  it,"  Polly  said. 

The  next  few  days  the  composition  of  a  fitting 
reply  occupied  all  their  time.  They  wrote  and 
discarded  a  dozen  answers  before  finally  deciding 
on  a  poem  of  Betty's.  The  Tatler  went  to  press 
with  instructions  to  print  it  on  the  first  page,  and 
the  Whitehead  girls,  when  they  got  their  copy, 
laughed  long  and  heartily,  for  this  is  what  they 
read: 

"Eight  little  germs  lurked  in  a  cup 

All  on  a  pleasant  day. 
Eight  little  maids  they  spied  that  cup 

When  they  went  out  to  play. 
They  thought  they'd  take  it  home  with  them; 

They  didn't  know,  you  see, 
The  mumpy  germs  were  waiting  there 

As  slyly  as  could  be. 
But  when  they  took  the  cup,  alas ! 

Those  eight  germs  gave  eight  jumps 
And  landed  in  those  eight  maids'  throats, 

And  gave  them  each  the  mumps." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

SPRING 

THE  months  of  March  and  April  had  come  and 
gone.  The  days  had  passed  in  unvarying  mo- 
notony for  the  most  part. 

Now  and  again,  however,  some  little  incident 
found  its  place  and  added  the  necessary  interest 
to  the  school  life.  The  long  term  after  Christmas 
is  always  tiring,  and  Easter  vacation  had  come 
as  a  relief.  By  the  time  this  chapter  opens  the 
grounds  of  Seddon  Hall  gave  proof  of  spring — 
warm  days  and  sunshine  beckoned  the  girls  out  of 
doors,  and  early  flowers  rewarded  their  frequent 
rambles  in  the  woods.  In  less  than  three  weeks 
school  would  close,  and  another  Senior  class  would 
graduate.  Polly  and  Lois  had  seen  the  same 
thing  happen  year  after  year,  but  now  that  the 
time  was  approaching  for  them  to  go,  they  ex- 
perienced the  same  feeling  of  regret  and  wonder 
that  every  girl  knows  who  has  ever  finished  and 
received  a  diploma. 

Fortunately  they  did  not  have  much  time  to 

205 


206    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

wonder  at  the  coining  change  in  their  lives,  for 
there  are  many  events  that  crowd  themselves  into 
the  last  few  weeks  of  a  Senior's  school  life,  occu- 
pying most  of  her  time. 

To-day  was  a  particularly  busy  one.  There  was 
a  Senior  class  meeting  to  decide  on  the  Senior 
play.  The  photographer  was  coming  to  take  the 
class  picture.  There  was  a  basket  ball  practice, 
for  Field  Day  was  not  far  off,  and  an  art  exhibi- 
tion in  the  evening.  The  latter  was  an  entirely 
new  idea  instigated  by  Miss  Crosby.  Every  girl 
who  could  draw  or  paint  had  offered  the  best  her 
portfolio  could  yield,  and  these  had  been  framed 
and  hung  on  the  walls  of  the  Assembly  Hall. 

A  committee  of  judges  composed  of  the  faculty 
and  two  important  friends  of  Miss  Crosby,  who 
had  promised  to  come  up  especially,  were  to 
award  a  medal  for  the  best  painting  and  for  the 
best  sketch.  Add  to  all  of  this,  the  fact  that 
Louise  Preston  and  Florence  Guile — two  of  the 
old  girls — were  expected  on  a  visit,  and  you  have 
an  idea  of  the  events  to  which  the  Seniors  looked 
forward,  as  they  jumped  out  of  bed  at  the  first 
sound  of  the  rising  bell. 

And  Polly  and  Lois  had  another  cause  for  ex- 
citement. To-day  was  the  day  of  the  inter-collegi- 
ate track  meet,  and  Bob  was  running  in  one  of  the 


Spring  207 

relay  races.  So  many  school  duties  had  made  it 
impossible  for  them  to  go,  but  Jim  had  promised 
to  wire  them  the  results. 

Betty  met  Polly  and  Lois,  as  usual,  in  Roman 
Alley,  and  they  discussed  the  plans  for  the  day, 
as  the  water  ran  in  their  tubs. 

"Do  you  think  the  Dorothys  are  going  to  vote 
against  'The  Merchant  of  Venice'?"  Betty  asked, 
dropping  down  on  the  lower  step  of  the  stairs. 
"I'll  simply  refuse  to  act,  if  we  have  to  have 
Tennyson's  *  Princess.'  I  think  it's  a  silly 
thing." 

"Oh,  Bet!" Lois  protested. 

"Well,  I  do,  and  we'd  never  learn  all  those 
yards  of  verse  by  Commencement." 

"I  think  we  can  make  the  Dorothys  agree," 
Polly  said,  confidently.  "Mrs.  Baird  is  coming 
to  the  meeting,  and  I  know  she'd  rather  we  gave 
the  'Merchant  of  Venice/  " 

"What  about  the  class  picture!"  Lois  asked. 
*  *  How  are  we  going  to  have  it  taken — all  standing 
in  a  stiff  group,  as  usual?" 

"Jemima,  no!"  Betty  exclaimed.  "The  offi- 
cers all  sit,  I  insist;  else  what  proof  have  we  of 
our  importance?" 

"Bet,  do  be  sensible, ' '  Polly  pleaded.  * ' This  is 
really  important.  Oh,  here  comes  Ange,"  she 


208    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

said  as  a  kimono  came  in  sight  around  the  bend 
in  the  stairs. 

"Come  on,  lazy  one;  we're  having  a  meeting," 
Betty  called.  "Subject  under  discussion,  the 
Senior  class  picture.  Have  you  any  valuable 
suggestions  to  offer?" 

"Yes,  I  have,"  Angela  replied,  unexpectedly, 
"and  it's  a  very  clever  one,  if  I  do  say  it  myself," 
she  drawled.  "I  may  as  well  warn  you  that  if 
you  don't  agree  with  me,  I'll  be  awfully  of- 
fended." 

"Then  maybe  you'd  better  not  tell  us,"  teased 
Lois. 

"Oh,  but  I  will.  Now  listen  to  me."  Angela 
sat  down  beside  Polly.  "It's  about  the  picture. 
Of  course  you  all  want  something  different,  don't 
you?  You  know  our  class  has  always  been 
noted — " 

"For  its  originality,"  Betty  finished  for  her. 

"Yes,  we  know,  go  on,"  encouraged  Polly. 

"Well,  I  thought  that  instead  of  an  everyday 
white  dress  and  diploma  kind  of  a  pose,  we'd  have 
a  very  informal,  sailor  suit,  you  know,  group 
taken. 

"Good  idea!  It  would  be  much  simpler  and 
better  taste,"  Lois  agreed. 

"Now  wait,"  Angela  went  on.    "I  haven't  fin- 


Spring  209 

ished.  Instead  of  having  it  taken  indoors,  with 
a  plain  wall  for  a  background,  it  would  be  much 
nicer  to  have  it  taken  out  of  doors,  either  on  the 
Senior  porch  or  out  on  one  of  the  rocks,  side  of  the 
pond.'* 

"That  would  be  perfect,"  Polly  exclaimed,  en- 
thusiastically. 

"No  class  has  ever  done  it  before,  and  I  know 
Mrs.  Baird  will  be  overjoyed  at  the  idea  of  hav- 
ing something  a  little  different  from  those  awful 
set  pictures  her  office  is  lined  with." 

"It  is  a  good  scheme,"  Betty  said  slowly. 
"But  oh,  my  children!  Do  you  think  for  one  mo- 
ment that  the  Dorothys  will  ever  agree?" 

"You  leave  the  Dorothys  to  me,"  Polly  said. 
"I'll  see  that  they  agree  to  everything." 

The  meeting  was  held  immediately  after  school 
in  one  of  the  classrooms.  Mrs.  Baird  was  there, 
and  sat  beside  Lois.  Everything  was  very 
formal  and  quite  according  to  Parliamentary 
rules. 

Lois  mentioned  the  subjects  that  were  to  be  dis- 
cussed, and  before  any  one  else  had  a  chance  to 
speak,  Polly  rose  and  asked  to  be  permitted  to 
offer  a  suggestion. 

When  it  had  been  granted,  she  laid  before  them 
Angela's  idea  for  the  picture.  Mrs.  Baird  was 


210    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

so  charmed  that  she  forgot  to  be  formal,  in  her  en- 
thusiastic praise  of  it. 

When  that  point  was  settled,  Lois  mentioned  the 
play. 

Betty  jumped  up  at  the  first  words  and  gave 
several  very  good  reasons  in  favor  of  the  "Mer- 
chant of  Venice."  Evelin  and  Helen  agreed  with 
her  and  though  the  two  Dorothys  voted  for 
"The  Princess, "  the  majority  was  in  Betty's 
favor. 

It  was  decided  that  Mrs.  Baird  and  Miss  Porter 
should  cast  each  girl  in  her  part. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  meeting,  there  was  a 
knock  on  the  door.  Polly  opened  it.  Louise 
Preston  and  Florence  Guile  stood  in  the  hall. 

"Don't  let  us  disturb  anything,"  Louise  said, 
"but  Miss  Hale  told  us  Mrs.  Baird  was  here." 

Polly  pulled  them  into  the  room.  "Oh,  but  I'm 
glad  to  see  you,"  she  cried.  "We  thought  you'd 
never  get  here." 

The  meeting  broke  up  at  once,  for  the  girls 
crowded  round  to  welcome  them.  They  had  both 
been  Seniors  when  the  present  class  were  Fresh- 
men. Now  they  were  Juniors  at  College,  but  like 
most  of  the  Seddon  Hall  graduates,  they  always 
came  back,  at  least  once  a  year.  The  girls  were 
all  delighted  to  see  them  for  they  had  been  two  of 


Spring  211 

the  most  popular  girls  who  had  ever  been  in  the 
school. 

When  the  greetings  were  over,  Polly  and  Lois 
claimed  them,  and  carried  them  off  to  the  gym. 
Louise  had  been  Captain  in  her  Senior  year  and 
was  now  on  her  college  team,  and  Polly  wanted  her 
advice. 

"Now,  Lon,  tell  me  just  exactly  what  you 
think,"  she  said  after  the  game  was  over,  and 
they  were  all  four  in  her  room. 

"I  think  your  team  is  fine,  Polly,  really," 
Louise  said,  sincerely,  "but — " 

"Yes,  it's  that  but,  I  want  to  hear  about,"  Polly 
prompted. 

"The  guards  are  your  weak  point.  That  one 
girl  made  four  fouls.  Miss  Stewart  didn't  see 
them  all,  but  I  did,"  Louise  said. 

"That's  Eleanor  Trent,  she's  used  to  boys' 
rules,"  Lois  explained. 

"Then  she's  hopeless,"  Florence  said  with 
finality,  "and  she'll  never  get  over  it." 

"Who's  the  girl  that  was  guarding  you?" 
Louise  asked. 

"That's  Maud  Banks;  she's  been  a  sub  for  only 
a  little  while,"  Polly  said.  "I  put  her  on  to  take 
the  place  of  a  girl  who  didn't  come  back  after 
Easter.  Why?" 


212    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"I  think  she  ought  to  be  on  the  big  team," 
Louise  declared.  " She's  a  splendid  player." 

Polly  considered.  "I  guess  you're  right,"  she 
said. 

"You  and  Lo  and  Bet  pass  as  well  as  ever," 
Florence  said.  "Lois  where  did  you  get  that 
Princeton  banner?"  she  asked,  changing  the  sub- 
ject abruptly. 

"Frank  gave  it  to  me." 

"It's  coming  down  to-night  and  my  banner 
takes  its  place,"  Polly  said;  "that  is,  if  something 
happens." 

"What?"  Louise  demanded. 

But  Polly's  explanation  was  cut  short  by  a 
timid  tap  at  the  door. 

"Come  in,"  called  Lois.  It  was  Phylis  and 
Janet. 

"We've  come  to  take  you  out  for  a  walk,  sister," 
Phylis  said  to  Florence.  "You  promised  you'd 
come  back  right  after  practice  and  you  didn't." 

Florence  laughed.  "Mercy,  what  a  rude  awak- 
ening. Here  I've  been  feeling  just  as  if  I  were 
back  again  and  then  my  small  sister  knocks  at  the 
door  and  reminds  me  I'm  only  a  visitor!" 

"Their  coming  makes  me  think  of  the  way  you 
two  used  to  knock  at  our  door,"  Louise  said. 
"Remember?" 


Spring  213 

' '  Only  Lo  and  Poll  were  never  as  respectful  as 
Jane  and  Phylis,"  Florence  teased,  putting  her 
arm  around  her  sister.  "They  used  to  bounce  in 
unannounced  and  eat  up  all  our  peanut  butter." 

"Florence,  you  shouldn't  talk  like  that,"  her 
sister  admonished  her.  "You  forget  Polly  and 
Lois  are  Seniors,"  she  said  with  dignity. 

"A  thousand  pardons!"  Florence  laughed. 
"So  they  are." 

"I  see  you  have  your  defenders  just  as  we  had," 
Louise  remarked. 

"I  think  it's  time  to  go,"  Janet  announced,  and 
she  didn't  understand  why  everybody  laughed. 

"Tell  us  about  the  exhibition  to-night,"  Louise 
said,  as  they  started  for  their  walk,  and  Janet 
explained : 

"All  the  girls  who  are  at  all  good,  put  things 
in,"  she  concluded.  "These  two  friends  of  Miss 
Crosby  are  both  artists  and  they're  very  impor- 
tant. I  hope  Lois  gets  the  prize." 

"Do  you  think  she  will?"  Florence  asked. 

"I  don't  know,  but  Maud  Banks  says  she's  sure 
to,"  Janet  replied. 

Polly  and  Lois,  after  their  visitors  had  left, 
hurried  back  into  their  sailor  suits  and  joined  the 
rest  of  the  Seniors  in  the  reception  room,  where 
the  photographer  was  waiting. 


214    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

Lois  explained  about  the  picture  and  led  the 
way  to  the  pond.  He  selected  a  rock  and  grouped 
the  girls  around  it.  This  took  so  much  time,  that 
Lois  hurried  to  the  studio  to  find  it  was  too  late 
to  make  the  one  or  two  alterations  on  her  canvas 
that  she  had  wanted  to. 

"Oh,  dear,"  she  said  to  Miss  Crosby;  "I  never 
realized  how  late  it  was  getting.  What  will  I 
do?" 

"You'll  leave  your  canvas  just  as  it  is,"  Miss 
Crosby  answered.  "I'm  glad  the  light  is  poor. 
I  didn't  want  you  to  make  any  changes.  Come 
down  to  Assembly  Hall  and  help  me  to  hang  up 
the  rest  of  the  sketches,  will  you?"  she  asked. 

The  two  artists  who  were  to  act  as  judges  came 
in  time  for  dinner.  The  girls  had  a  glimpse  of 
them  as  they  passed  the  guests '  dining-room. 

* '  Why,  they  're  men, ' '  Betty  exclaimed.  '  *  One 's 
fat,  old  and  bald,  and  the  other  one's  young.  I 
thought  they  were  going  to  be  women." 

"No,  of  course  not."  Lois  laughed.  "Miss 
Crosby  told  me  all  about  them,  they're  quite  fa- 
mous. Do  you  know  I'm  scared  to  death,"  she  ad- 
mitted. 

There  was  no  set  time  for  the  exhibition  that 
night.  The  Assembly  Hall  was  open  at  seven- 


Spring  215 

thirty,  and  the  girls  cr.me  in  and  looked  at  the  pic- 
tures when  they  wanted  to. 

The  two  imposing  visitors,  who  both  wore  tor- 
toise shell  rimmed  glasses  on  broad  black  ribbons, 
walked  about  glancing  at  a  picture  now  and  then, 
and  talking  to  the  faculty. 

"They  make  me  awfully  nervous;  let's  get  out. 
I  think  some  of  the  girls  are  dancing  in  English 
Boom, ' '  Lois  said.  She  was  with  Polly  and  Louise 
and  Florence. 

''Then  how  will  we  know  who  gets  the  medal?" 
Louise  inquired. 

"The  bell's  going  to  ring  at  nine  o'clock,"  Polly 
explained.  ' '  Then  everybody  will  come  back,  and 
the  winner's  names  will  be  announced  from  the 
platform. 

"Well,  let's  look  once  more  at  Lois'  canvas," 
Florence  said.  "I'm  crazy  about  it." 

They  crossed  the  room  and  stopped  before  a 
picture  of  an  apple  orchard  in  Springtime.  Lois 
had  chosen  to  paint  it,  because  it  was  her  favor- 
ite spot  in  the  grounds,  and  she  had  put  into  it 
all  the  joy  and  sunshine  of  a  May-day. 

"Lo,  it's  good,"  Polly  whispered  earnestly. 
' '  It  makes  me  want  to  dance. ' ' 

"Have    you    seen    Maud's    sketches,    they're 


216    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

great,"  Lois  said.  The  critics  were  standing  near 
and  she  felt  suddenly  self-conscious. 

"I  think  the  one  of  the  chicken  yard  is  awfully 
clever,  but,  of  course  I  love  the  yellow  dog  best 
of  all." 

Maud,  when  she  had  heard  of  the  exhibit,  had 
chosen  her  puppy  friend  for  one  of  her  models. 
The  girls  admired  the  clever  result,  and  then  left 
the  room. 

At  nine  o'clock  the  bell  rang.  It  was  five  min- 
utes before  all  the  girls  were  back  in  the  room,  and 
Lois  was  among  the  last.  She  was  almost  afraid 
to  listen  for  the  names.  When  everything  was 
quiet,  the  older  of  the  two  men  came  to  the  edge 
of  the  platform — the  medals  in  his  hand. 

"This  unexpected,  but  none  the  less,  charming 
evening,"  he  began;  "has  caused  me  a  great  deal 
of  pleasure.  It  is  a  privilege  to  be  among 
you." 

1 '  Oh,  do  hurry, ' '  groaned  Polly. 

"And  I  am  indebted  to  our  friend  Miss  Crosby, 
for  the  honor.  "With  the  assistance  of  your  faculty 
— whose  judgment  I  am  sure  you  respect  most 
heartily,"  he  added,  with  a  quiet  smile;  "I  have 
chosen  that  very  delightful  painting  of  the  apple 
orchard — without  hesitation — as  the  most  note- 
worthy and  promising  canvas  in  the  room.  It  is 


Spring  217 

with  the  greatest  pleasure  that  I  present  Miss 
Lois  Farwell  with  the  medal." 

Lois  walked  up  to  the  platform.  Her  head  was 
swimming  and  all  the  color  had  left  her  cheeks. 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  as  the  medal  on  its 
purple  ribbon  slipped  into  her  hand.  She  seemed 
to  be  treading  on  air  as  she  walked  back  to  Polly. 

Maud  received  the  other  medal  for  her  clever 
and  original  treatment  of  the  yellow  dog ;  her  com- 
ment was  typical. 

"Oh,  I  say,  thanks  a  lot!"  she  said,  as  she  ac- 
cepted it. 

Miss  Crosby  detained  Lois  after  the  girls  had  all 
gone  and  introduced  her  to  the  two  men.  She 
heard  their  praise  and  criticism  of  her  work  with 
a  beating  heart.  She  was  tempted  to  think  it  was 
all  a  dream,  when  she  was  back  in  her  room,  but 
the  card  she  held  in  her  hand,  that  the  artist  had 
given  her,  was  proof  of  reality. 

"Polly,"  she  said,  excitedly,  "you  should  have 
heard  the  nice  things  he  said  to  me,  and  he  told 
me  that  if  I  wanted  advice,  to  come  to  .him.  Imag- 
ine !  I'm  much  too  thrilled  to  go  tamely  to  bed." 

"I  know,"  Polly  agreed;  "my  heart  was  in  my 
throat  when  he  was  talking.  I  thought  he'd  never 
stop.  To-morrow  I'm  going  to  write  Aunt  Kate 
all  about  it.  Think  how  delighted  she'll  be." 


218    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

Lois  smiled  happily.  "I  know  she  will.  She's 
always  heen  so  adorably  interested  in  everything. 
I  wish  I  had  something  to  eat,"  she  finished  pro- 
saically. 

"I'll  go  see  if  Bet  and  Ange  have  any  thing, " 
Polly  offered. 

She  tip-toed  out  of  the  door — for  the  good  night 
bell  had  rung — and  started  toward  Betty's  room. 
One  of  the  housemaids  was  just  coming  down  the 
corridor. 

" Here's  a  telegram  for  you,  Miss  Polly,"  she 
said.  ' '  Mrs.  Baird  told  me  to  bring  it  up ;  it 's  just 
come." 

Polly  took  the  yellow  envelope  and  tore  it  open. 
"Lois,"  she  cried,  joyfully,  rushing  back  to  their 
room.  "Look!  a  wire." 

"Bob  a  hero — he's  won  his  letter. 

(Signed)    "Jim." 

"Isn't  that  wonderful?"  Polly  demanded. 
"Now  we'll  never  get  to  sleep,"  she  added,  laugh- 
ing. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

FIELD  DAY 

THE  two  weeks  after  the  exhibition  had  been 
taken  up  by  final  examinations — an  anxious  time 
for  the  graduating  class. 

Seddon  Hall  kept  up  a  high  standard  and  no 
girl  could  receive  a  diploma  unless  her  marks 
showed  a  high  average.  When  the  papers  were 
all  corrected,  a  notice  was  posted  on  the  bulletin 
board  of  the  girls  who  had  failed.  Betty  called 
it  the  black  list. 

"I  know  perfectly  well  my  name  will  lead  them 
all,"  she  said.  They  were  waiting  in  the  corridor, 
for  the  list  was  to  be  posted  to-day.  "And  if  the 
Spartan  has  anything  to  do  with  it,  she'll  probably 
print  it  extra  large, ' '  she  added. 

Angela  and  Polly  and  Lois  were  with  her,  and  to 
a  less  extent  they  shared  her  fears. 

"It  really  doesn't  matter  so  much  to  you,"  An- 
gela said;  "You're  none  of  you  going  to  college, 
but  imagine  if  I  flunk  anything. ' ' 

"Xou  can  make  it  up  this  summer,"  Lois  said. 

"Yes,  and  take  entrance  exams.    No,  thanks; 

219 


220    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

I'd    prefer    entering    on    certificate,"    Angela 
drawled. 
Evelin  and  Helen  came  out  of  the  study  hall. 

*  'Any  news  yet  ? ' '  Evelin  asked. 

Betty  shook  her  head.  "No,"  she  said,  sol- 
emnly, ' '  it  must  be  a  very  long  list  they  are  making 
out.  What  are  you  two  nervous  about?" 

"Everything  in  general,"  Helen  said,  hopelessly, 

*  *  but  history  in  particular. ' ' 

"The  Dorothys  are  calmly  indifferent,"  Polly 
remarked.  "Why  aren't  they  here?" 

"They're  coming  now,"  Evelin  said.  "No 
news?"  she  called. 

Dot  Mead  stopped  half  way  down  the  corridor. 

"This  suspense  is  killing  me,"  she  said,  "we've 
been  trying  to  study  our  parts,  but  it 's  no  use. ' ' 

"This  awful  delay  argues  the  very  worst, "  Betty 
said.  * '  We  've  all  flunked  everything,  and  all  those 
beautiful  new  diplomas  will  never  be  used.  What 
a  cruel  waste." 

"Betty,  do  try  and  be  a  little  more  cheerful," 
Polly  pleaded;  "can't  you  see  my  knees  are  knock- 
ing together?  Oh,  if  I  ever  live  through  this 
week ! ' ' 

"That's  the  way  I  feel,"  Lois  agreed,  forlornly. 
"I've  a  million  and  one  things  to  do  and  no  time. 
Think  of  it,  Field  Day  to-morrow !" 


Field  Day  221 

"And  that  means,  we  ought  to  be  practicing  all 
day  to-day,"  Evelin  said. 

"Exactly,  but  if  I  practice  to-day,  I  won't  know 
my  part  for  the  play.  I  do  wish  Portia  hadn't 
talked  so  much,"  Lois  answered. 

"Then  there's  all  the  things  to  see  to  about  the 
dance,"  Angela  added. 

"And  the  Commencement  Hymn  to  learn," 
Helen  reminded  them. 

"The  game's  the  most  important,"  Polly  said, 
decidedly,  "but  I  don't  want  any  of  the  team 
to  do  any  practicing.  Some  one  would  be  sure  to 
get  hurt." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  about  Eleanor?" 
Betty  asked. 

"Give  her  a  chance,"  Polly  told  her;  "but  she 
knows  that  the  first  foul  she  makes  I  take  her  out 
and  put  Maud  in. ' ' 

"Good!  was  she  hurt?"  Lois  asked. 

"No;  she  understands,  and  she's  promised  to  be 
very  careful — " 

"Oh,  where — oh,  where  is  that  list?"  Dorothy 
Lansing  returned  to  the  subject  with  a  sigh. 

They  waited  in  silence  for  a  while  longer,  and 
at  last  their  patience  was  rewarded.  They  heard 
a  step  on  the  stair  and  Mrs.  Baird  came  towards 
them. 


222    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"What  is  this?  a  Senior  class  meeting?"  she 
asked,  smiling. 

"No,"  Betty  answered  for  them  all.  "We're 
waiting  in  agonized  suspense  for  the  exam,  list." 

"Why,  you  poor  children,"  Mrs.  Baird  laughed ; 
"there  isn't  any  list  this  year.  You  all  passed  in 
everything. ' ' 

There  was  an  exclamation  of  joyful  relief  from 
the  girls. 

'  *  Thank  goodness ! ' '  from  Polly.  ' '  Now  we  can 
breathe  in  peace.  Oh,  but  I'm  glad!" 

"Wasn't  it  fortunate  I  happened  to  come  up," 
Mrs.  Baird  laughed.  "You  might  have  waited  all 
afternoon.  I  really  came  to  tell  you  that  I  have 
made  arrangements  at  the  hotel  for  all  your  fam- 
ilies for  the  night  before  Commencement,  and  to 
find  out  if  you  expected  any  one  here  for  the  game 
to-morrow.  Your  mother  and  father  are  coming, 
Betty.  I  heard  from  them  to-day. ' ' 

"My  uncle  is  coming  if  he  possibly  can,"  Polly 
added. 

"Mother  and  Dad  will  surely  be  here,"  Lois 
said,  "and  so  will  Bob;  but  he'll  be  late." 

"There  will  be  more  visitors  than  usual  for 
to-morrow,  won't  there?"  Mrs.  Baird  asked. 
"You'll  have  to  win  the  game,  Polly." 

"If  I  don't,  I'll  hide  somewhere  and  never  show 


Field  Day  223 

my  face  again,"  Polly  answered.  "Think  how 
awful  it  would  be  to  lose  on  our  own  floor,  and  with 
visitors  to  witness  the  defeat. ' ' 

"Well,  don't  worry  about  it,"  Mrs.  Baird  ad- 
vised. '  *  You  know  the  best  team  always  wins. ' ' 

"We  beat  last  year.  So  this  year  it's  their 
turn,"  Angela  teased. 

The  next  day  the  visitors  began  to  arrive  on  the 
noon  train.  All  morning  the  girls  had  been  busy 
decorating  the  gym  and  practicing  songs.  By 
luncheon  time  everything  was  ready,  and  the  Fen- 
wick  school  team  arrived  in  one  big  carryall,  fol- 
lowed by  another,  filled  with  their  friends  and 
well-wishers.  Polly,  as  captain,  was  so  busy  with 
her  duties  that  she  had  only  a  minute  now  and 
then  to  think  of  the  game. 

Dr.  and  Mrs.  Farwell  came  among  the  first 
guests  and  she  and  Lois  happened  to  be  in  the  front 
hall  when  they  arrived. 

"Where's  Uncle  Roddy?"  Polly  asked,  after  she 
had  greeted  them,  "and  where,  oh,  where  is  Bob!" 

"Roddy  will  be  up  later,"  the  doctor  told  her. 

"And  Bob  may  not  be  able  to  come,"  Mrs.  Far- 
well  explained.  "You  see  he  wants  to  be  here 
surely  for  the  dance — " 

"Jim's  coming  too,  isn't  he?"  Lois  interrupted. 
*  *  He  wrote  he  would, ' ' 


224    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Yes;  they'll  both  be  here  to-morrow  without 
fail,"  her  mother  assured  her.  "And  Bob  will 
come  to-day,  if  he  possibly  can." 

But  there  was  no  sign  of  him  when  Polly  glanced 
up  at  the  visitors '  gallery,  as  the  Seddon  Hall  team 
marched  into  the  gym  at  two  o  'clock. 

"There's  a  train  due  now;  maybe  he's  on  that," 
Lois  whispered  under  cover  of  the  singing. 

"What  a  bunch  of  people,"  Betty  exclaimed., 
looking  around  the  room. 

Every  seat  in  the  gallery  was  filled  with  friends 
and  relatives,  and  the  girls  had  been  forced  to  find 
places  on  the  floor  downstairs. 

The  teams  stopped  and  faced  each  other  in  the 
center  of  the  floor.  Polly's  heart  sank;  somehow 
the  Fenwick  team  looked  more  imposing  in  gym 
suits  than  she  had  expected,  and  she  remembered 
that  one  of  the  guards  had  told  her  they  had 
won  every  game  they  had  played  that  year. 

"Perhaps,"  she  thought,  "it's  just  as  well  Bob 
isn't  here." 

They  took  their  places  on  the  floor,  and  Miss 
Stewart  blew  the  whistle.  In  a  game  that  really 
counts,  there  is  no  sound  so  exciting  as  that  first 
whistle.  It  means  so  much.  Betty  rose  to  her 
toes  at  the  sound  of  it,  and  faced  the  opposing 
jumping  center. 


Field  Day  225 

"I  think  I'd  like  the  first  ball,"  the  Fenwick  girl 
said,  laughing. 

"Sorry,  but  you  can't  have  it,"  Betty  replied, 
bounding  into  the  air ;  "  it 's  mine ! ' '  She  batted  it 
back  towards  Fanny. 

"Good!"  Polly  whispered  to  Lois,  and  raised 
her  left  hand  above  her  head. 

But  the  Fenwick  side  center  intercepted  Fanny 's 
pass  and,  before  they  knew  it,  the  ball  was  down 
at  the  other  end.  Evelin  failed  to  guard  her  for- 
ward and,  after  a  high  toss,  the  ball  fell  into  the 
basket. 

Dorothy  Mead,  as  official  score  keeper,  drew  a 
2  slowly  on  the  blackboard.  Fanny  felt  the  fault 
was  entirely  hers  and  turned  appealing  eyes  to 
her  captain. 

"Cheer  up!"  Polly  called.  "That's  only  one; 
dodge  her  next  time. ' ' 

But  Fanny  didn't  get  a  chance  to  even  touch  the 
ball,  for  Betty  lost  the  toss  up,  and  the  ball  was 
spirited  away  to  the  other  goal.  Evelin  fought 
hard,  but  Eleanor  was  so  busy  thinking  about  the 
lines  that  the  Fenwick  team  made  another  basket. 

"Oh,  this  is  awful!  I  never  saw  Eleanor  so 
slow,"  Lois  said. 

Betty  lost  the  next  toss  up,  too,  but,  fortunately, 
Evelin  stopped  it  and  threw  to  Fanny.  She  passed 


226    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

to  Betty,  and  Lois  waited  for  it  near  the  line,  but 
her  guard  kept  her  from  getting  it.  They  fought 
hard  in  the  center  for  the  next  few  minutes.  Elea- 
nor got  so  excited  that  she  stepped  over  the  line, 
the  whistle  blew,  and  the  Fenwick  forward  made 
a  basket.  The  score  was  five  to  nothing. 

Eleanor  looked  at  Polly,  but  she  shook  her 
head. 

"The  first  half  is  almost  up,"  she  said  to  Lois. 
"I  don't  want  to  change  yet." 

Fanny  fumbled  the  next  ball  Betty  sent  her. 

"That's  inexcusable,"  Lois  declared,  angrily, 
and  Betty  stamped  her  foot  in  rage.  Fanny  began 
to  cry. 

"That's  the  end,"  Lois  said;  "you  can't  put  a 
sub  in  for  her. ' ' 

"No;  but  I  can  do  something  equally  as  good," 
Polly  replied,  quietly.  "Wait  till  this  half  is 
over."  It  was  like  her  to  be  carelessly  hopeful, 
when  everybody  else  was  in  despair. 

The  Fenwick  team  scored  again  before  the 
longed-for  whistle  blew. 

"There's  Bob  and  Uncle  Roddy,"  Polly  said, 
just  as  the  ball  dropped  into  the  basket.  "He's 
looking  at  the  score, ' '  she  added,  laughing. 

Lois  stared  at  her  in  amazement. 

"Poll,  what's  the  matter  with  you?"  she  de- 


Field  Day  227 

manded.  "Do  you  realize  that  the  score  is  seven 
to  nothing?" 

''Yes,"  Polly  replied  in  unruffled  tones,  "but 
there's  another  half,  and  you  seem  to  have  for- 
gotten that." 

The  school  broke  into  a  song  and  the  teams  sat 
down  for  a  much  needed  rest.  Polly  looked  up  at 
the  gallery  and  nodded  merrily  to  Bob.  Then  she 
went  up  to  Eleanor. 

"I'm  sorry;  but  I'm  going  to  put  Maud  in 
the  next  half,"  she  said. 

"Oh,  thank  goodness!"  Eleanor  exclaimed. 
"I've  lost  my  nerve." 

"Get  ready,  Maud,"  Polly  said,  going  over  to 
the  subs;  "you've  got  a  hard  job  ahead." 

"Righto!"  Maud  said,  instantly;  and  Polly 
walked  over  to  Fanny.  She  was  crying  on  Betty 's 
shoulder. 

"Take  me  out,"  she  sobbed,  as  Polly  came  up. 
"I'm  no  good  on  earth." 

"You  are  quite  right;  you  aren't,"  Polly  re- 
plied, sternly.  "I  never  saw  such  a  silly  exhibi- 
tion of  flunk.  If  I  had  any  one  to  put  in  your 
place,  I  would;  but  you  know  I  haven't." 

Betty  looked  up  in  surprise.  She  thought  Polly 
was  being  a  little  too  hard  on  poor  Fanny. 

"I  never  saw  such  poor  plays  in  my  life,"  Polly 


228    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

continued,  relentlessly.  "You  seemed  to  enjoy 
flunking.  If  you'd  stop  thinking  of  Jack  and  John 
and  the  rest  of  your  admirers  and  pay  a  little  at- 
tention to  the  game,  we  might  stand  a  chance, ' '  she 
concluded,  coldly. 

"Why,  Polly!"  Fanny  dried  her  eyes.  "You 
shouldn't  talk  to  me  like  that.  I  did  the  best  I 
could,  and  I  wasn't  thinking  of  boys,"  she  denied, 
angrily,  "and  you  know  it." 

Polly  refused  to  even  listen.  She  turned  her 
back  on  Fanny  and  sat  down  beside  Lois. 

"And  that's  all  right,"  she  said  contentedly. 

' '  What  is  !  "  Lois  demanded.  * '  Poll,  we  haven 't 
a  chance." 

"Oh,  yes,  we  have;  just  watch." 

The  whistle  blew  for  the  second  half  and  the 
teams  returned  to  their  places.  Instead  of  tears, 
Fanny's  eyes  flashed  indignant  protest,  and  her 
mouth  was  set  in  a  firm  line. 

Maud  took  Eleanor's  place,  much  to  the  latter 's 
satisfaction.  Betty  won  the  first  toss  up,  passed 
the  ball  to  Fanny.  She  bounced  it  to  line  and 
threw  it  to  Polly.  She  was  so  angry  that  she  lit- 
erally fired  the  ball.  Polly  caught  it,  tossed  it  to 
Lois,  and  she  made  a  clean  basket. 

"What  did  I  tell  you?"  she  said;  "we're  goin£ 
to  win  this  game. ' ' 


Field  Day  229 

They  played  hard  for  the  rest  of  the  half. 
Maud  persistently  refused  to  let  the  Fenwick  for- 
ward even  touch  the  ball.  In  her  attempt  to  get  be- 
yond the  reach  of  Maud's  guarding  arm,  she  went 
over  the  line,  and  Polly  made  a  basket  on  the  foul. 

The  spectators  were  breathless  as  the  score 
mounted  up — 7-3,  7-5  and  at  last  7-7.  The  girls 
cheered  encouragement  and  Bob  and  Uncle  Koddy 
clapped  so  hard  that  Polly  and  Lois  looked  up 
and  waved. 

Lois  had  just  caught  a  ball  that  Betty  threw 
and  was  aiming  for  a  basket  when  the  whistle  blew. 

"Now,  what!"  Betty  demanded.  "We  can't 
stop  with  a  tie." 

Miss  Stewart  consulted  the  two  captains. 

"We  will  play  an  extra  two  minutes,"  she  said, 
"to  decide.  Ready!" 

It  was  a  tense  second.  The  school  groaned  as 
the  Fenwick  center  won  the  toss,  but  they  had 
forgotten  Maud.  She  jumped  high  in  the  air  and 
batted  the  ball  back  to  Betty,  who  passed  it  to 
Fanny,  and  then  ran  to  the  line  to  receive  it  again. 
Lois  was  waiting  for  it  and  passed  it  low  to  Polly 
and  dashed  to  the  goal  post.  Polly  threw  it  back 
to  her  and  she  threw  for  the  basket.  There  was  an 
agonized  silence  as  the  ball  tottered  on  the  iron 
rim,  that  broke  into  a  shout  of  triumph  as  it 


230    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

dropped  in  the  basket,  a  fraction  of  a  minute  be- 
fore the  whistle  blew. 

Seddon  Hall  had  won — a  splendid  victory — and 
Polly's  dream  was  realized.  The  girls  crowded 
around  her  and  cheered ;  then  lifted  her  according 
to  custom,  shoulder  high,  and  carried  her  around 
the  room. 

"Where's  Fanny  Gerard?"  she  asked  as  soon  as 
they  put  her  down  before  the  cup  she  had  won. 

"Here!"  Betty  called,  pulling  the  reluctant  cen- 
ter to  her. 

Polly  threw  her  arms  around  her.  "Fanny, 
will  you  ever  forgive  me?"  she  said.  "I  didn't 
mean  a  word  of  all  those  horrid  things  I  said — not 
one.  I  only  did  it  to  make  you  mad.  I  knew  if 
you  could  only  begin  to  rage,  you'd  get  back  your 
nerve,  and  you  did ;  you  played  like  a  little  fury- — 
but  oh,  how  I  hated  to  do  it !" 

Fanny  threw  back  her  head  and  laughed  with 
relief.  "Oh,  Polly!"  she  exclaimed,  "I  thought 
you  really  meant  it." 

Maud  accepted  Polly's  praise  with  genuine 
pleasure.  For  once  her  stolid  indifference  gave 
way  to  natural  enthusiasm.  Mrs.  Baird  presented 
Polly  with  the  cup,  and  the  Fenwick  captain  added 
to  her  joy  by  telling  her  that  she  had  never  seen 
such  a  wonderful  exhibition  of  generalship.  Dr. 


Field  Day  231 

and  Mrs.  Farwell,  with  Uncle  Roddy  and  Bob  were 
waiting  at  the  door  as  the  girls  came  out  bundled 
up  in  their  sweaters. 

"Good  for  you,  Polly!"  Bob  said,  enthusiastic- 
ally. "That  certainly  was  a  ripping  game,  and 
you  deserve  a  whole  lot  of  credit.  I  take  back 
everything  I  ever  said  about  your  girls '  basket  ball. 
Let's  see  the  cup,"  he  added. 

Polly  showed  it  to  him. 

"I'm  proud  of  you,  Tiddledewinks,"  Uncle 
Roddy  said,  "and  Lois,  too.  You  have  a  splendid 
eye.  That  last  goal  was  well  made."  He  put  his 
hand  on  her  shoulder. 

"  I  'm  dumbfounded ! ' '  the  doctor  exclaimed.  * '  I 
had  no  idea  girls  did  anything  as  strenuous  as 
this." 

"You  must  be  tired  out!"  Mrs.  Farwell  said, 
"and  you'll  catch  cold.  Do  hurry  back  to  school 
and  change." 

Polly  and  Lois  started. 

"I  wish  Jim  had  been  here,"  Lois  called  over 
her  shoulder  to  Bob.  "Perhaps  he  might  have 
changed  his  mind  about  basket  ball  being  a  good 
enough  girls'  game,"  she  said. 

' '  He  '11  be  here  to-morrow,  "Bob  replied.  ' l  And 
you  can  trust  me  to  see  that  his  mind  is  changed," 
he  promised. 


CHAPTEE  XIX 

THE   SENIOE   DANCE 

HISTORY  classroom,  converted  temporarily  into 
a  dressing  room,  was  a  scene  of  busy  confusion. 
The  Seniors  were  being  "made  up" — a  woman 
had  come  from  New  York  especially  for  the  pur- 
pose. 

It  was  almost  time  for  the  play  to  begin  and 
everybody  was  in  a  hurry.  Outside  the  Assembly 
Hall  was  rapidly  filling  and  the  murmur  of  voices 
penetrated  to  the  dressing  room. 

"There  must  be  a  perfect  swarm  of  visitors," 
Betty  said.  "I  know  the  minute  I  get  on  that 
stage  I'll  forget  every  one  of  my  lines,"  she  added, 
as  she  looked  critically  at  herself  in  the  glass.  She 
was  playing  the  part  of  Shylock,  and  her  long  beard 
and  gray  wig  disguised  her  almost  beyond  recogni- 
tion. 

"Do  you  think  I  need  some  more  lines  on  my 
face?"  she  asked  Miss  Crosby,  who  was  acting  as 
stage  manager. 

"No,  Betty  dear,  I  don't;  I  think  you're  quite 

232 


The  Senior  Dance  233 

ugly  enough,"  Miss  Crosby  answered  her.  "Are 
you  ready,  Polly?" 

"No;  I'm  still  struggling  with  this  sash,"  Polly 
answered,  coming  out  from  behind  a  screen  dressed 
as  Bassanio. 

" I'll  fix  it.  There ! ' '  Miss  Crosby  tied  the  re- 
fractory sash  and  then  stood  off  to  view  the  effect. 
' t  You  make  a  very  gallant  and  graceful  Bassanio, ' ' 
she  said. 

"Where's  my  Portia?"  Polly  inquired. 

Lois  was  being  "made  up";  so  she  could  only 
laugh  in  response.  She  was  charming  in  a  full 
black  velvet  gown,  trimmed  with  heavy  white  lace, 
and  her  hair  was  crowned  by  a  cap  of  pearls. 

Angela,  in  dark  green,  was  no  less  lovely  as 
Nerissa.  Evelin  made  a  dignified  Antonio,  and 
Dot  Mead  a  jaunty  Gratiano.  Helen  played  the 
double  role  of  Salarino  and  the  Moor,  while  Doro- 
thy Lansing  took  The  Prince  of  Arragon  and  the 
Gaoler. 

On  account  of  the  small  number  of  Seniors,  all 
of  the  lesser  characters  had  been  omitted,  and  the 
play  had  been  cut  down  to  three  acts. 

The  first — the  Venetian  street  scene,  where  An- 
tonio bargains  with  Shylock.  The  second — the 
choosing  of  the  caskets,  and  the  third — the  court- 
room. 


234    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

Angela,  who  was  industriously  shaking  powder 
into  her  new  satin  slipper  because  it  hurt,  began 
reciting  her  lines : 

' '  '  Your  Father  was  ever  virtuous ;  and  holy  men 
at  their  death  have  good  inspirations — '  " 

"Do  keep  still,  Ange,"  Betty  begged;  "you'll 
get  me  all  mixed  up.  'Oh,  upright  judge — a  Dan- 
iel— come  prepare — '  "  she  murmured  to  herself. 

Lois  in  the  other  corner  of  the  room  was  chant- 
ing: "  'The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strained — it 
droppeth  like  the  gentle  dew  from  Heaven  upon  the 
place  beneath.  It  is  thrice  blest — '  There,  I 
know  I'll  get  that  wrong,"  she  broke  off — "it's 
'twice  blest,'  and  I  always  say  *  thrice.'  " 

"You're  far  too  generous  with  your  blessings," 
Polly  laughed.  "I  feel  perfectly  sure  that  I  will 
giggle  right  out  when  you  say :  'You  see,  me  Lord 
Bassanio  as  I  am — '  you  know." 

"Don't  you  dare  look  at  me,"  Lois  warned,  "or 
I'll  laugh,  too.  Mercy,  listen  to  those  people !  I'm 
going  to  peep."  She  opened  the  door  a  crack  and 
looked  out  into  the  Assembly  Hall.  She  saw  Maud 
and  Fanny,  who  were  acting  as  two  of  the  ushers, 
seating  the  new  arrivals. 

' ' The  hall's  jammed, ' '  she  told  the  girls.  ' ' How 
many  guests  have  you  to-night,  Dot?"  she  asked. 


The  Senior  Dance  235 

"Six!  My  mother,  two  girl  cousins  of  mine  and 
three  boys." 

"I  expect  five,"  Evelin  said.  "I  hope  they're 
all  here.  Did  you  notice  two  lanky  men,  a  girl  that 
looks  like  me,  and  my  mother  and  father?" 

"No,  I  didn't,"  Lois  said;  "that  is,  I  can't  rec- 
ognize them  from  your  description." 

"Wasn't  it  a  shame  your  mother  couldn't  come, 
Betty?"  Polly  said.  "But,  of  course,  Dick  is 
here,"  she  teased. 

"No,  he's  not,"  Lois  laughed.  "I'd  have  seen 
his  red  head  in  the  crowd  if  he  had  been." 

*  *  He 's  coming  with  John  Frisby  and  Ange  's  sis- 
ter and  brother-in-law,"  Betty  said,  without  pay- 
ing any  attention  to  Lois'  teasing. 

"There'll  be  at  least  twenty  couples  for  the 
dance, ' '  Polly  said.  * '  That  means  the  room  won 't 
look  half  empty,  the  way  it  did  last  year." 

"I  hope  there's  enough  sherbet,"  Evelin  said; 
"boys  always  eat  twice  as  much  as  you  expect 
them  to." 

"Well,  there  are  cakes  enough  to  feed  a  whole 
army,"  Dorothy  Lansing  added.  "I  know,  for  I 
ordered  them." 

* '  The  orchestra  is  here.  Oh,  bother  that  buckle ! 
it's  sure  to  come  off,"  Helen  exclaimed. 


236    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"Has  the  sherbet  come,  does  anybody  know?" 
Angela  asked. 

"They  promised  it  by  six  o'clock,"  Dot  Mead 
replied ;  "  it 's  surely  here  by  now. " 

"It's  time  for  the  curtain,"  Miss  Crosby  called, 
as  she  came  down  from  the  stage,  where  she  had 
been  putting  the  last  finishing  touches  to  the  Ve- 
netian street.  * '  Are  you  ready  I ' ' 

Polly  and  Angela  and  Helen  jumped  up. 

"Don't  forget  your  cue,  Betty,"  Angela  warned, 
"and  don't  you  dare  make  me  laugh." 

Miss  Crosby  gave  the  signal  for  the  lights  to  be 
turned  off  and  a  low  murmur  of  anticipation  ran 
through  the  Assembly  Hall  as  the  curtain  rose. 

Betty's  clever  interpretation  of  Shylock  won 
the  applause  for  the  first  act. 

"Jemima!  I'm  glad  that's  over,"  she  said  as 
the  curtain  rang  clown.  "The  grease  paint  is  all 
running  down  my  cheeks.  It's  awfully  hot  up 
there." 

They  heard  the  audience  still  applauding. 

"Go  take  a  curtain  call,  Betty,"  Miss  Crosby 
called.  i '  All  of  you,  hurry  up !  Lois,  are  you  and 
Angela  ready  for  the  next  act ! ' ' 

It  is  hard  to  say  who  held  the  stage  during  the 
casket  scene.  Angela  was  sweet  as  Nerissa,  and 
Polly  made  such  a  charming  lover  that  she  was 


The  Senior  Dance  237 

especially  applauded.  Lois  delighted  every  one 
as  Portia,  but,  of  course,  her  real  triumph  came  in 
the  next  act. 

It  is  one  of  the  hardest  things  in  the  world  to  re- 
cite lines  with  which  your  audience  is  familiar  and 
put  sufficient  new  meaning  in  them  to  hold  their 
attention.  It  is  so  easy  to  fall  into  a  sing-song 
chant,  particularly  with  a  long  speech.  But  Lois 
did  it.  She  gave  each  word  its  proper  stress  and 
the  soft  mellow  quality  of  her  voice  gained  her 
extra  praise. 

It  was  a  tired,  but  happily  contented  cast  that 
took  the  encore  after  the  final  curtain,  and  the 
audience  were  enthusiastic  in  their  applause. 

"And  now,  for  the  dance,"  Polly  exclaimed,  as 
they  hurried  back  to  the  dressing  room  to  change 
their  costumes.  "I  wish  we  could  go  as  we  are — " 

"Why,  Polly,  you  shock  me,"  Betty  laughed. 
"I  can't  imagine  eating  sherbet  with  this 
beard." 

' '  They  are  pushing  back  the  chairs ;  hear  them ! ' ' 
Lois  said.  "Do  hurry,  Poll." 

They  finished  dressing,  and  joined  their  party 
waiting  for  them  in  one  corner  of  the  room.  Jim 
Thorp  and  Bob  were  extravagant  in  their  con- 
gratulations. 

"I  expect  that  Lo  will  be  starring  in  less  than 


238    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

a  year.  How  many  people  have  called  you  a  born 
actress,  little  sister  1 ' '  he  asked. 

"Oh,  at  least  a  million!"  Lois  replied;  for  she 
was  not  to  be  teased. 

"How  do  you  like  being  a  man,  Polly!'*  Jim  in- 
quired. "You  were  so  dashing  and  debonair,  that 
I  bet  every  fellow  in  the  room  felt  big  and  clumsy 
in  comparison." 

* l  That  pretty  girl  who  played  Nerissa  was  fine. 
I'd  like  to  meet  her,"  Bob  said,  "and  you  must  in- 
troduce Jim  to  Betty ;  I  want  him  to  see  her  with- 
out the  beard." 

"All  right;  come  on,  and  let's  find  them;  they'll 
be  together,"  Polly  suggested  as  the  music  started. 

"Oh,  let's  have  one  dance  first  1"  Bob  said. 

After  the  dance  ended,  all  the  girls  tried  to  in- 
troduce their  friends  to  one  another.  It  was  a 
little  confusing,  for  all  the  boys  wanted  to  dance 
with  every  girl.  Polly  was  so  busy,  meeting  and 
dancing  with  different  partners,  that  she  didn't 
see  Bob  again  until  much  later  in  the  evening.  He 
was  standing  in  one  corner  of  the  room  and  he 
looked  very  warm. 

"Let's  go  out,"  he  suggested.  "It's  so  awfully 
hot  in  here ;  it's  not  against  the  rules,  or  anything, 
is  it?"  he  added,  as  Polly  hesitated. 

She  laughed.    "No,  of  course  not;  but  I  was 


The  Senior  Dance  239 

trying  to  remember  who  I  had  the  next  danoe 
with,"  she  said. 

"With  me,"  Bob  assured  her  promptly. 
"Come  on;  I  have  your  scarf  in  my  pocket." 
They  slipped  out  of  one  of  the  long  windows  at 
the  end  of  the  hall  and  walked  toward  the 
pond. 

"Bob,  do  you  realize  that  this  is  my  last  night 
at  Seddon  Hall?"  Polly  said,  seriously.  Bob  nod- 
ded. "Yes,  to-morrow  you  get  your  nice,  berib- 
boned  diploma,  or,  I  suppose  it's  beribboned;  is 
it?" 

"Yes!"  Polly  answered  absently. 

"Lucky  you." 

"Why?" 

"To  have  finished.  There's  nothing  more  thor- 
oughly satisfactory  than  finishing  something," 
Bob  said,  earnestly. 

"But  some  things  are  too  wonderful  ever  to  fin- 
ish," Polly  objected,  looking  down  at  the  stars  re- 
flected in  the  pond.  "I'm  simply  broken-hearted 
at  the  thought  of  leaving  to-morrow.  It's  all  been 
so  fine.  Why,  Bobby,  what  will  life  away  from 
Seddon  Hall  be  like?" 

"Whatever  you  make  it,  I  suppose,"  Bob  said, 
wisely.  Polly  was  silent  for  a  time. 

"Well,"  she  said  at  last,  "whatever  I  do,  or 


240    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

whatever  happens  to  me,  it  will  never  be  quite  as 
nice  as  Seddon  Hall. ' ' 

"What  a  happy  outlook,"  Bob  teased.  "Polly, 
you're  indulging  in  the  blues.  Stop  it!"  he  com- 
manded. 

Polly  laughed  and  gave  herself  a  little  shake. 
"All  right!  It's  the  stars,  they  always  make  me 
sad;  come  on,  let's  go  back  and  dance." 

As  they  returned  they  met  Betty  and  Dick. 
They  were  hurrying  around  the  corner  of  the 
house." 

"Whither  awa?"  Polly  called,  gaily. 

"Oh,  Poll,  the  most  awful  thing  has  happened!" 
Betty  explained,  when  they  came  up  to  them. 
"The  sherbet  didn't  come  and  all  the  class  are 
tearing  their  hair ;  we  're  out  looking  for  it. ' ' 

"Better  join  the  expedition,"  Dick  laughed. 

"Betty  tells  me  there  are  no  less  than  seven 
back  doors  to  this  place,  and  the  sherbet  may  be 
melting  at  any  one  of  them." 

"Oh,  Dick,  it's  serious!"  Betty  said,  crossly. 
"Dot  Mead  called  up  the  caterer  and  he  said  it 
had  been  delivered,"  she  explained  to  Polly. 

"A  tragedy!"  Bob  exclaimed.  "I  must  have 
sherbet ;  the  party  will  be  ruined  without  it. ' ' 

"Of  course  it  will,"  Betty  answered;  "you  can't 
do  just  with  chicken  salad.  It's  got  to  be  found. 


The  Senior  Dance  241 

You  go  that  way  and  we  '11  go  this.  Look  at  every 
door,  and  perhaps  we'll  find  it." 

They  started  in  opposite  directions,  but  when 
they  met  outside  of  the  Assembly  Hall  a  few  min- 
utes later  the  sherbet  was  still  missing. 

4 'I'm  going  to  tell  Mrs.  Baird,"  Betty  said; 
"maybe  she  can  suggest  something  to  do.  Dick, 
you  wait  here  with  Polly  and  Bob.  I'll  be  right 
back." 

And  she  disappeared  through  the  window. 

"Do  you  suppose,"  Polly  said,  suddenly —  "I 
have  an  idea.  Come  with  me,  both  of  you."  She 
ran  down  the  road,  regardless  of  satin  slippers,  as 
far  as  the  gym.  "They  may  have  left  it  here  by 
mistake,"  she  said  to  the  boys. 

Bob  ran  to  the  door.  "Here  it  is!"  he  ex- 
claimed. He  pointed  to  the  six  buckets  packed  full 
of  ice. 

"What  will  we  do  with  it?"  Dick  inquired. 
' '  Carry  it  back  to  Betty  ? ' ' 

"No ;  we'll  unpack  it  here — ugh !  The  ice  is  all 
slushy."  She  stood  back  to  save  her  dress. 

"We '11  do  it,  "Bob  said.  "You  look  out.  Here 
Dick,  dump  them." 

"You'll  ruin  your  clothes,"  Polly  protested. 
"Wait  and  I'll  get  some  one  from  the  house." 

" Never  i"  Pick  declared,  "wait  even  an  instant 


242    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

while  this  precious  stuff  melts;  I  should  say  not." 

"All  right,  you  unpack  it ;  be  careful  of  the  tins, 
the  covers  fall  off  sometimes,  and  the  salt  gets  in 
the  ice  cream '  '  she  warned.  "  I  '11  go  find  Betty. ' ' 

She  found  her  on  the  Senior  porch.  She  was 
just  coming  out  with  one  of  the  maids. 

"We've  found  it  I"  Polly  called  to  her. 

"Jemima !  where?"  Betty  demanded. 

"At  the  gym.  The  driver  must  have  just 
dumped  it  down  at  the  first  door  he  came  to.  The 
boys  are  unpacking  it." 

Fifteen  minutes  later  the  sherbet,  a  little  melted 
and,  perhaps  a  trifle  salty,  was  served  in  glass  cups 
and  no  one  but  the  agonized  Seniors  and  Dick  and 
Bob  knew  of  the  narrow  escape. 

The  rescuing  party  joined  Lois  and  Jim  over 
in  one  corner  of  the  room. 

"It's  delicious"  Bob  said,  feelingly.  "Jim,  did 
you  ever  unpack  ice  cream  cans  that  were  com- 
pletely surrounded  by  slush?"  he  asked,  casually. 

"  No ! "  Jim  said,  wonderingly.    '  *  Why  ? ' ' 

*  *  Didn  't  you  ?    You  should  have. ' ' 

"Do  it  the  next  warm  night  when  you're  all 
dressed  up." 

"It's  a  great  way  to  cool  off,"  Dick  advised. 

"What  are  they  talking  about,  Poll?"  Lois  de- 
manded. 


The  Senior  Dance  243 

Polly  explained.  "It  was  such  a  lark  watching 
them!"  she  concluded,  laughing. 

"I'm  going  to  write,"  Betty  hegan,  and  then 
stopped  abruptly. 

< '  Write  what  ? ' '  Dick  asked. 

Betty's  expression  changed.  "Jemima!"  she 
said  slowly;  "I  was  going  to  say,  that  the  next 
composition  I  wrote  would  be  on  the  Quest  of  the 
Missing  Sherbet  and  then  I  suddenly  remembered 
that  I  wouldn't  have  to  write  any  more.  This  is 
our  last  night, ' '  she  added,  solemnly. 

Polly  and  Lois  looked  at  her.  The  smiles  faded 
from  their  lips,  and  they  ate  the  rest  of  the  sher- 
bet in  silence. 


CHAPTER  XX 

COMMENCEMENT 

COMMENCEMENT  was  over.  The  service  in  the 
little  church  had  been  very  simple,  but  very  beau- 
tiful. The  Seniors  dressed  in  the  daintiest  of 
white  lawn  dresses  had  received  their  diplomas, 
and  marched  slowly  down  the  center  aisle. 

There  had  been  a  hurried  scramble  back  to 
school.  A  change  of  clothes  and  then  the  long  line 
of  carriages  had  started  for  the  station. 

Polly  stood  on  the  last  step  of  the  Senior  porch. 
Lois  and  her  mother  and  father  had  just  left  for 
the  train.  They  were  returning  to  Albany  for  a 
little  while  before  leaving  for  the  summer  vaca- 
tion. 

Polly  was  going  back  to  New  York  with  Uncle 
Eoddy  in  his  car.  She  watched  the  last  carriage 
out  of  sight.  There  was  an  unnatural  silence 
about  the  school  buildings  and  she  looked  deject- 
edly at  the  deserted  grounds.  Uncle  Eoddy  was 
saying  good-by  to  Mrs.  Baird  at  the  door. 

"Are  you  ready  to  start,  Tiddledewinks ? "  he 

244 


Commencement  245 

asked,  handing  her  suitcase  to  the  chauffeur,  and 
waiting  to  help  her  in  the  car. 

Polly  turned  to  Mrs.  Baird. 

''I  suppose  so;  it's  all  over  and  I  can't  think  of 
any  excuse  to  stay,"  she  said,  making  a  pitiful 
attempt  at  a  smile. 

"Dear  child,"  Mrs.  Baird  said,  affectionately, 
"don't  talk  like  that.  Seddon  Hall  always  has  a 
place  for  all  her  girls;  a  diploma  doesn't  make  any 
difference  and  I  can  promise  that  there  will  always 
be  an  extra  warm  welcome  for  a  certain  little  girl. ' ' 

Polly  kissed  her  impulsively.  "I'll  be  back  so 
often  next  year  that  you'll  get  tired  of  me,"  she 
laughed,  as  she  got  into  the  car.  Mrs.  Baird  waved 
until  they  turned  the  bend  in  the  road.  Polly 
looked  back  in  a  last  farewell,  until  the  buildings 
on  the  hill  were  a  tiny  speck.  Then  she  turned  to 
her  uncle.  "Uncle  Koddy,"  she  said,  seriously, 
"do  you  remember  what  you  said  to  me  the  first 
night  I  was  home,  after  my  Freshman  year?" 

"No,  dear;  not  particularly,"  Uncle  Eoddy  re- 
plied. "What  was  it?" 

"You  told  me  that  you  hoped  every  year  of  my 
life  would  be  happier  than  the  last,"  she  told  him. 
"Well  it  has,  up  until  now,  but  I  feel  suddenly  lost. 
What  am  I  going  to  do  ? " 

Uncle  Eoddy  laughed  and  he  took  her  hand. 


246    Polly's  Senior  Year  at  Boarding  School 

"You're  going  to  begin  a  new  chapter  in  life, 
dear,"  he  said,  seriously,  "and  I  think  you'll  find  it 
more  interesting  and  fuller  than  the  last. ' ' 

"Will  I?"  Polly  asked,  wonderingly. 

"Yes,"  Uncle  Koddy  said,  confidently.  "It 
will  be  fuller  and  more  worth  while.  I  know  I  can 
trust  my  Tiddledewinks  to  make  it  that. ' ' 

Polly  pondered  in  silence  for  a  few  minutes. 
Then  her  frown  disappeared  and  she  gave  her- 
self a  little  shake  thereby  dismissing  all  regrets. 
She  turned  to  look  back  in  the  direction  of  the 
school. 

"Good-by,  dear  old  Seddon  Hall,"  she  said, 
mailing,  "I'm  ready  for  the  next  chapter." 


THE    END 


THE  POLLY  PENDLETON  SERIES 

BY  DOROTHY  WHITEHILL 


Polly  Pendleton  is  a  resourceful,  wide- 
awake American  girl  who  goes  to  a  board- 
ing school  on  the  Hudson  River  some  miles 
above  New  York.  By  her  pluck  and  re- 
sourcefulness, she  soon  makes  a  place  for 
herself  and  this  she  holds  right  through  the 
course.  The  account  of  boarding  school 
life  is  faithful  and  pleasing  and  will  attract 
every  girl  in  her  teens. 


1  POLLY'S  FIRST  YEAR  AT  BOARDING  SCHOOL 

2  POLLY'S  SUMMER  VACATION 

3  POLLY'S  SENIOR  YEAR  AT  BOARDING  SCHOOL 

4  POLLY  SEES  THE  WORLD  AT  WAR 

5  POLLY  AND  LOIS 

Cloth,  Large  12mo.,  Illustrated. 


Newark,  N.  J. 


BARSE  6-  HOPKINS 

PUBLISHERS 


New  York,  N.  Y. 


Dorothy  Whitehill    Series 

For  Girls 


Here  is  a  sparkling  new 
series  of  stories  for  girls 
— just  what  they  will  like, 
and  ask  for  more  of  the 
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twin  sisters,  who  for  the 
first  few  years  in  their 
lives  grow  up  in  ignor- 
ance of  each  other's  exist- 
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last  brought  together  and 
things  begin  to  happen. 
Janet  is  an  independent 
go-ahead  sort  of  girl ; 

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5  Titles,  Cloth,  large  12mo., 
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1.  JANET,  A  TWIN 

2.  PHYLLIS,  A  TWIN 

3.  THE  TWINS  IN  THE  WEST 

4.  THE  TWINS  IN  THE  SOUTH 

5.  THE  TWINS'  SUMMER  VACATION 


BARSE  &  HOPKINS 

PUBLISHERS 
NEWARK,  N.  J.  NEW  YORK,  N.  Y. 


THE  MARY  JANE  SERIES 

BY  CLARA  INGRAM  JUDSON 

Cloth,  12mo.     Illustrated. 
With  picture  inlay  and  wrapper. 


Mary  Jane  is  the  typical  American  little 
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becomes  acquainted  with  farm  life  and  farm 
animals  and  thoroughly  enjoys  the  ex- 
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read  the  stories  for  yourselves. 

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1  MARY  JANE— HER  BOOK 

2  MARY  JANE— HER  VISIT 

3  MARY  JANE'S  KINDERGARTEN 

4  MARY  JANE  DOWN  SOUTH 

5  MARY  JANE'S  CITY  HOME 

6  MARY  JANE  IN  NEW  ENGLAND 


BARSE  &  HOPKINS 

PUBLISHERS 

NEWARK,  N.  J.  NEW  YORK,  N.  Y. 


THE  TOMLINSON  SERIES 

BY  EVERETT  T.  TOMLINSON. 


Interest  in  school  life  is  perpetual.  The 
young  student,  facing  new  surroundings, 
finds  an  element  of  romance  and  strong  ap- 
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Here  are  stories  of  school  life  and  ath- 
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They  deal  with  problems  of  life  common 
to  students  and  inspire  the  manly  attributes 
of  self-reliance  and  strength  of  character. 


THE  PENNANT. 

CAPTAIN  DAN  RICHARDS. 

CARL  HALL  OF  TAIT. 

JACK  STONE  OF  TAIT  SCHOOL. 

(Other  volumes  in  preparation) 

Cloth,  Large  12mo.t  Illustrated. 


For  sale  at  all  bookstores  or  sent  (postage  paid)   on  receipt  of  price  by 
the  publishers. 


Newark,  N.  J. 


BARSE  &  HOPKINS 
PUBLISHERS 


New  York,  N.  Y. 


THE  GO  AHEAD  BOYS 

BY  ROSS  KAY. 

/  leave  this  rule  for  others  when  I'm  dead: 

Be  always  sure  you're  right — THEN  GO  AHEAD. 

— Davy  Crockett's  Motto. 


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1  THE  GO  AHEAD  BOYS  ON  SMUGGLERS'  ISLAND. 

2  THE  GO  AHEAD  BOYS  AND  THE  TREASURE  CAVE. 

3  THE  GO  AHEAD  BOYS  AND  THE  MYSTERIOUS 

OLD  HOUSE. 

4  THE  GO  AHEAD  BOYS  IN  THE  ISLAND  CAMP. 

5  THE  GO  AHEAD  BOYS  AND  THE  RACING  MOTOR 

BOAT. 

6  THE  GO  AHEAD  BOYS  AND  SIMON'S  MINE. 

(Other  volumes  in  preparation) 

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Newark,  N.  J. 


BARSE  &  HOPKINS 

PUBLISHERS 


New  York,  N.Y. 


Thrilling  Tales  That  Teach  True  Patriotism 

FLAG  &  COUNTRY  SERIES 

By  PAUL  G.  TOMLINSON 


When  the  World  War 
broke  out,  Bob  Cook  and 
his  friend  Hugh  were  in 
High  School.  They  chafed 
at  being  too  young  to  en- 
list, but  soon  found  that 
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Bob  Cook  and  the  German  Spy 
Bob  Cook  and  the  German  Air  Fleet 
Bob  Cook's  Brother  in  the  Trenches 
Bob  Cook  and  the  Winged  Messengers 
Bob  Cook  and  the  Bomb  Plot 


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NEWARK  NEW  YORK 

N.  J.  N.  Y. 


Y 


from  which  it  was  borrowed 


